


A Single Step, A Thousand Miles

by cywscross



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2017-12-11 22:54:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 32,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/804166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cywscross/pseuds/cywscross
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: When Tetsuya first arrives at Seirin, it’s the start of something he’s never had, and for the life of him, he can see no end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Kuroko no Basket.
> 
> Author’s Notes: A series of word prompts; some in order, some not.  
> No idea where I’m going with this; they're really just some drabbles that pop into mind now and then. It’s basically a pit stop for all my KnB muses.

* * *

_“Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?”_

_“That depends a good deal on where you want to get to.”_

_“I don’t much care where-”_

_“Then it doesn't matter which way you go.”_

_“-so long as I get_ somewhere _.”_

_“Oh, you’re sure to do that, if you only walk long enough.”_

 

_~ Alice and the Cheshire Cat, Alice in Wonderland_

* * *

 

**1\. Unnoticed**

 

                On his first day at Seirin High, Tetsuya drifts in through the school gates, slips between the throng of milling, chattering students all huddled together in excited groups, fills in an application form for the school’s basketball club, and then heads to class.

 

                The teacher misses him at roll call (he expects it; he tells her he’s here; she automatically dislikes him for playing a prank), he sits on the side in group discussion, and no one approaches him and asks to be friends, either already part of their own circles or simply not noticing him and approaching the handful of other new students instead.

 

                Tetsuya doesn't mind.  He’s used to it.

 

                Later, after basketball practice, Tetsuya leaves with the knowledge that his new coach is disappointed in him, and while that fact stings a little, he ignores it because this is also something he is used to.  He will prove his worth eventually.

 

* * *

 

**2\. Creepy**

 

                When Taiga first meets Kuroko properly in the fast-food restaurant (because he accidentally sits at an already occupied table and doesn't even notice the guy until he’s halfway through a burger), the first thing that comes to mind is that Kuroko is _creepy_.

 

                It isn’t just because the guy is ridiculously invisible to a degree that Taiga didn't think was possible, though that certainly contributes to it.  No, it’s more the fact that Taiga’s never met _anyone_ with a poker face like Kuroko’s, blank and empty and completely void of emotion.

 

                But he doesn't say anything, and they end up playing a one-on-one, and he’s so disgusted by the end of it that he skips right on to outright yelling at Kuroko.  How could anyone be this weak in basketball?

 

                (Throughout it all though, Kuroko remains infuriatingly expressionless.  He isn’t hurt or angry or even embarrassed.  He calls himself a shadow instead.  That just ups the creepy factor.)

 

                Taiga eats his words later when Kuroko helps them win the game against their senpai, and privately, he wonders how Kuroko, for all his misdirection, can call himself just a shadow when his passes shine that much on the court.

 

                That’s a somewhat creepy thought though, not to mention revoltingly poetic, so Taiga keeps it to himself.

 

                And if Kuroko wants to be the shadow to his light, then so be it.  A smile flickers at the corners of his mouth when Taiga acknowledges this, one that suddenly makes Kuroko infinitely less creepy, so he’s happy enough to go along with it.

 

Besides, invisible or not, Taiga’s one hundred percent certain that they'll both be noticed on the court when they go on to flatten the rest of the Generation of Miracles.

 

* * *

 

**3\. Enemy**

 

_“Give us Kurokocchi.”_

 

                Before he actually met them, the Generation of Miracles simply ranked as _opponents_ and _prodigal players_ in Junpei’s mind.  They weren’t weak by any means but they weren’t anything too far out of reach either.

 

                And then Kuroko drops into their laps and Junpei is equal parts impressed and uneasy.  Impressed because _damn, Kuroko can pass like no one else_ , but also uneasy, because despite the utter impassivity, there’s something brittle in Kuroko’s eyes that makes Junpei think of cracked glass gone too long unfixed (if that makes any sense).

 

                He doesn't say anything though, mostly because he doesn't really _know_ Kuroko yet at this point, or any of the other first-years for that matter, but he also figures that being a part of Seirin might help because Kuroko always looks a little happier when he’s on the court and playing with them.

 

                But after meeting Kuroko, Junpei wonders if the rest of the Generation of Miracles are like him, on the socially-awkward side, somewhat quirky, but still surprisingly likeable.

 

                They aren’t.

 

                Or at least Kise Ryouta isn’t, all arrogance wrapped in a childish facade, and wearing the sort of unreliable confidence born from never losing.

 

                Junpei could've looked past all that though if the blond didn't try to poach from their team.  Even worse is the mix of complicated emotions that flickers through Kuroko’s eyes when he spots Kise, and Junpei just _knows_ that the dynamics between the Generation of Miracles were nowhere near as flawless as the rumours said.

 

                (However, Junpei can inwardly admit to feeling smug relief when Kuroko turns Kise down point-blank.  After all, compared to Kaijou, Seirin doesn't have the best reputation.)

 

                Kuroko chose Seirin over all those other highly-regarded schools out there though, and that only makes Junpei more pleased.

 

                So, understandably, his protective side spikes with irritation when Kise barges into the middle of their practice (bringing a gaggle of girls with him to boot) and attempts to coax Kuroko to Kaijou.  That just instantly moves Kise from _opponent_ to _enemy_.  Kuroko’s new and all but he’s _Seirin’s_ now and Junpei’s the captain and he isn’t going to let some snot-nosed brat think he can go around flinging invitations at one of Junpei’s teammates whenever he likes.

 

                Kuroko and Kagami make Kise pay for it later in the practice match, but from that point on, Junpei draws the line between Kuroko ( _theirs_ ) and the rest of the Generation of Miracles ( _enemies to be taken down one at a time, which was their plan all along anyway; this just gives them more incentive_ ).

 

                After all, if Kise is the weakest of the lot and a single loss from a _practice match_ can make him cry, then Junpei really can’t see the rest of the Generation of Miracles being any better.

 

                (He wonders how on earth Kuroko managed to deal with them for three years.)

 

* * *

 

**4\. Progress**

 

                Rinnosuke is silent by nature and all his teammates have more or less accepted it.  He can get his point across most of the time without ever having to say a word, and if need be, Koganei can translate for him.

 

                His new kouhai range from odd to eccentric, no normal between the five of them at all, and Rinnosuke knows right away that they’ll fit right in.

 

                He zeroes in on the quietest one though, and he picks up the loneliness behind the composed face easily enough.  He’s got enough siblings who sometimes have fits of petulance to have learned how to be observant when it comes to what people _aren’t_ saying.

 

                So he does his best to make Kuroko feel welcome, at first simply passing water bottles to him or keeping an extra attentive eye on him (Kuroko was hard to keep track of), and then, later, always careful with the number of bentos when he makes lunches for his teammates because Kuroko always seems somewhat taken aback at being remembered and included (which makes Rinnosuke wonder about the kind of life he had before coming to Seirin).

 

                It doesn't really surprise Rinnosuke when he goes to school one day, walks into the gym ready for practice, and automatically places a hand on Kuroko’s head and offers a small smile as he passes, just like he does with his own siblings at home.  The action comes as easy as breathing, and the surprise on Kuroko’s face just makes Rinnosuke’s smile widen imperceptibly.  The returning tentative smile – along with the typical polite good-morning – he receives instead of blank eyes and deadpan features is the icing on the cake.

 

                Progress.

 

* * *

 

**5\. Learning**

 

                Tetsuya is learning.

 

                He’s learning that the captain expects him to do his best in every practice but overdoing it will get him yelled at.

 

                He’s learning that despite Kagami getting stronger and stronger by the day and could probably blow past all of their senpai, Hyuuga, Kiyoshi, Izuki, and even Mitobe are all fully capable of – and fully willing to – reining Kagami back if he goes too far.  (This comes as a heart-stopping relief for Kuroko.)

 

                He’s learning that lunches are to be spent on the rooftop with his team – friends – and he can no longer get away with drinking only a vanilla milkshake with Coach and Mitobe-senpai hovering over his shoulders.

 

                He’s learning that he isn’t expected to stay in the shadows, that he’s allowed to celebrate just as much as his teammates when they’ve struggled over another mountain and won another game.

 

                He’s learning that his team won’t let him _not_ celebrate.

 

                And he’s learning that _team_ actually means team in Seirin, and not several individuals playing on the same side but still playing alone.

 

                Tetsuya is learning, and he secretly thinks that he can never repay Seirin for everything they’ve taught him (if only because they’ll never let him repay them anyway).

 

* * *

 

**Please leave a review on your way out.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Kuroko no Basket.

* * *

_“Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?”_

_“That depends a good deal on where you want to get to.”_

_“I don’t much care where-”_

_“Then it doesn't matter which way you go.”_

_“-so long as I get somewhere.”_

_“Oh, you’re sure to do that, if you only walk long enough.”_

_~ Alice and the Cheshire Cat, Alice in Wonderland_

 

* * *

 

**6\. Partners in Crime**

 

                When Kazunari jolted awake at the sound of a door opening, he rolled over and blinked blearily at Shin-chan’s form ducking out of their room.

 

                That was odd.  Shin-chan liked his sleep.  He never slept past his alarm clock but Kazunari hadn't been kicked awake yet so that meant that Shin-chan had woken up _early_ , and who the heck wanted to do that when their coach and captain were already putting them through hell with all their intensive summer training?

 

                Kazunari flopped back onto his bed.  On one hand, his muscles still ached from yesterday’s practice (the baths barely helped at all) and if he stayed put, he might be able to catch a few more winks before Shin-chan or one of their senpai came knocking down the door.

 

                On the other hand, he was already awake anyway, and he was curious about where Shin-chan was going at this hour.  Knowing his best friend, it probably had something to do with basketball unless Oha Asa had predicted something ridiculous again.

 

                With a wordless grumble, Kazunari tossed back his blankets and crawled out of bed, shivering at the morning chill.  Grabbing his coat, he idly peered out the window, raising an eyebrow when he caught sight of Shin-chan with Kagami slinking out the front door and heading towards the basketball court, a basketball under Kagami’s arm.  Both looked to be arguing about something.

 

                Well what do you know?  Shin-chan was making friends.

 

                Kazunari cocked his head before a devious grin crossed his face.  This merited spying.

 

                Of course, he mused as he stepped into the hall.  It wouldn't do to spy without company.  What if he was caught?  He didn't want to be chewed out alone.

 

He’d have to find someone willing to humour him and brave Shin-chan’s wrath, which meant...

 

                “What is up with your hair?”

 

               Kazunari stared at the mop of pale blue locks sticking up every which way on the shorter teen’s head.  Messy didn't even begin to cover it.  And he’d thought bumping into Seirin on that first morning of training camp and seeing that bedhead was bad.  Apparently, it was even worse right after getting out of bed.

 

                “I can’t help it,” Kuroko said, still looking half-asleep and, in Kazunari’s opinion, more expressive than any other time of the day, especially when the teen stifled a yawn and rubbed at one eye with a loose fist.  “Is there something I can help you with, Takao-kun?”

 

                Though it looked like the good manners stuck around the clock.  It was a little weird; after all, what kind of teenager in this day and age was that polite to anyone?  Most people would be snapping at Kazunari for waking them up.  It was barely six-thirty.

 

                Still, this was exactly the reason why he had chosen Kuroko to accompany him.

 

                “Come on,” He snagged Kuroko by the arm and proceeded to drag the Seirin player out of his room.  “Shin-chan’s snuck out and gone to play basketball with Kagami.  Don’t you want to see?”

 

                “Not really,” Kuroko objected, his usual deadpan fast replacing the openness from before.  “I noticed when Kagami-kun woke up and left but I fell asleep again afterwards.”

                _Until you woke me up_ went unspoken, not a trace of accusation in his tone of voice, which was just bizarre, but Kazunari ignored it and ushered Kuroko down the hall and out the front door, thoughtfully snatching a Shuutoku jacket from the row of hooks on the wall in the entrance hall.  Shin-chan must've left it here on his way out.

 

                “Here, put this on,” Kazunari passed the coat over to the shorter teen.  “I don’t want your coach coming after me with a butcher knife or something if you catch a cold.”

 

                In his mind, that was all too possible, and judging by the brief quirk of Kuroko’s mouth, Kazunari’s temporary partner in crime thought the same.

 

                The jacket was too big of course but it did the job and the two of them were soon crouched behind a row of bushes and peering out at the two basketball players currently facing each other on the court.

 

                “Oohh,” Kazunari smirked somewhat smugly when Shin-chan ducked past Kagami again and scored another three-pointer.  “Your partner still hasn’t improved enough, Kuroko.”

 

                “He’s getting there,” Kuroko returned blandly, but his gaze was intent on the game, spying just as shamelessly now as he absently jostled Kazunari a little for elbowroom.

 

                Kazunari grinned.

 

                When they were caught later on in the process of trying to slip back inside without anyone noticing, and not by Shin-chan or Kagami either but by Kazunari’s annoyed-looking captain who towered over both of them as he glowered down at them, Kazunari sort of expected Kuroko to point fingers.  After all, an irritated Outsubo Taisuke in the morning wasn't something anybody on the Shuutoku team wanted to deal with.

 

                Instead, Kuroko shuffled forward to stand beside him, somehow looking properly chastised without moving a single facial muscle.  On Kazunari’s other side, Shin-chan had his arms crossed with a disgruntled expression on his face while Kagami scowled darkly beside Kuroko.

 

                “And why didn't you stop them, Takao?”  Outsubo growled as Kazunari rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.  “Midorima at least shouldn't be playing outside of practice at the moment.  Weren’t both of you complaining about sore muscles last night?  Instead, you sneak out and spy on them?”

 

                “W- Well, they looked like they were having fun,” Kazunari offered meekly.

 

                “They did,” Kuroko agreed before Outsubo could lay into Kazunari again.  The Shuutoku captain switched his hard stare onto Kuroko.

 

                “I don’t know what your coach has planned for you but I’d appreciate it if your team doesn't interfere with my team’s training menu,” The captain reprimanded gruffly, flicking a glare at Kagami who bristled and opened his mouth to argue, only to recoil when Kuroko jabbed an elbow into his side none-too-gently to shut him up.

 

                Kuroko dipped his head in a respectful bow.  “Yes, I apologize on behalf of Kagami-kun and myself.  It won’t happen again.”

 

                Outsubo squinted suspiciously at Kuroko’s impassive features before snorting and returning his attention to Kazunari.  Kazunari inwardly cringed.

 

                “I suppose you dragged him out here?”  The captain griped, looking ready to lambaste Kazunari with a death-defying number of laps on the beach.

 

                To Kazunari’s surprise, Kuroko cut in before he could come up with a way around said laps.  “No, Takao-kun asked if I wanted to join him.  I agreed.”

 

                Kazunari did a double-take before attempting to look like this wasn't news to him.  As far as he could remember, there had been no actual asking involved.

 

                His captain didn't look at all convinced but the irritation faded somewhat, replaced by sardonic exasperation instead as he heaved a sigh.  “Alright, whatever.  You two Seirin players scram; and- Kuroko, was it?  Give that jacket back unless you're planning on transferring schools.”

 

                Kuroko obediently shrugged off the coat and handed it back to a still miffed-looking Shin-chan before he and Kagami booked it back towards the lodgings.  Kazunari winced in sympathy when Kagami dug a rough elbow into Kuroko’s side in retaliation for earlier.

 

                “Now then.”

 

                Kazunari tensed as their captain frowned at them.  “Midorima, you should’ve known better.  As it is, if you want to practice so much, you can spend today training your leg muscles on the beach.  No shooting baskets today.”

 

                Shin-chan looked about ready to throw a temper tantrum – not many people knew it but Shin-chan could be very childish – but refrained as he always did and nodded stiffly instead.

 

                “And Takao,”

 

Kazunari snapped to attention.  His captain looked almost amused now for some reason.

 

“You can join Midorima on his laps for half an hour.  It’d be double that time if your new friend hadn't covered for you.”

 

This last bit was added with a shrewd shake of his head as Outsubo turned and strode away, muttering about disruptive first-years.

 

Later, Kazunari found himself running alongside Kuroko as Kagami and Shin-chan snarked at each other several dozen paces ahead.

 

“Coach is punishing me with half an hour of running,” Kuroko explained calmly between pants, already lagging behind even though they were barely ten minutes in.

 

Kazunari offered a wry smile.  Now he knew where the other half of his punishment had gone.  He had thought it strange since Outsubo wasn't one to accept excuses, especially when he saw right through them.

 

“Sorry about this,” He said fairly.  “But it was kinda worth it, right?”

 

Kuroko bobbed his head, and then almost tripped when his focus wavered.  “Yes, I was not aware that Midorima-kun knew that many swearwords.”

Kazunari blinked in surprise and then laughed, recalling one of the wayward shots Kagami had made that had unfortunately landed on Shin-chan’s miniature dragon figurine.  “Yeah, I didn't know either, but I suppose that’s what happens when someone breaks Shin-chan’s lucky item.”

 

He paused and glanced sidelong at the shorter teen.  “...I had no idea you had a sense of humour.”

 

Kuroko glanced up at him, straight-faced and blank except this time, Kazunari caught the mischievous glint in his eyes.  “I have no sense of humour.”

 

Kazunari snickered.  “Whatever you say.  You know, you’re not so bad after all.  I still hate your playing style though.”

 

Kuroko inclined his head.  “Takao-kun’s playing style is formidable as well.”

 

Kazunari tilted his head speculatively.  “...You’re really not so bad.  No wonder Shin-chan always fusses over you.  That tsundere can be such an idiot though.”

 

“Takao!  Did you say something about me?”

 

Kazunari waved cheerfully at the thunderous grouchy expression levelled at him.  “Of course not, Shin-chan!  Better turn around again before you-”

 

Shin-chan went down hard as he tripped over a crab.

 

“-fall.”  Kazunari finished as tempers flared in front of him.

 

“THIS IS WHY I NEED MY LUCKY ITEM!!”  Shin-chan barked, sputtering out sand.

 

“I _said_ I was sorry!”  Kagami bellowed back, jogging on the spot.

 

“‘Sorry’ doesn't get my lucky item back!”

 

“What, you can’t even run in a straight line without an object?”

 

“It’s not just any- Ow!  Stupid crab!  It pinched me!”

 

Kazunari chortled with delight, catching a fleeting smile on Kuroko’s face out of the corner of his eye.  He instinctively caught Kuroko by the elbow when he stumbled and almost face-planted in the sand, hauling the teen upright again.

 

“Thank you,” Kuroko managed.

 

“Man, your stamina’s really bad,” Kazunari remarked.  He sighed when Kuroko only nodded, taking the comment in stride.  “Well, whatever.  Only fifteen minutes more to go.”

 

He paused again and looked contemplatively at Kuroko, who, despite his strange pokerfaced manner, was actually an okay guy.

 

“Hey, can I call you Tet-chan?”

 

* * *

 

**7\. Invasion**

 

                Riko had no idea what was going on.  It was- It was-

 

                It was an invasion.

 

                “But Kurokocchi!!  I haven’t seen you in forever!!”

 

                “I just saw you yesterday, Kise-kun.”

 

                “But I missed you since yesterday!”

 

                Snap!

 

                Riko broke the pencil she had been holding.

 

                “U- Uh, Coach?  You should try to stay calm.”  Tsuchida sounded a little nervous behind her.  She paid him no mind as she silently seethed.  Gathered on her other side, Hyuuga was cracking his knuckles ominously, Izuki was scowling, and even Mitobe was frowning faintly at the scene across the gym.

 

                This was the fifth time.  The fifth time Kise had visited Seirin in two weeks, and it didn't help that the blond always brought a gaggle of fangirls with him who refused to stop screeching “Kise-kun!  Kise-kun!” every five seconds.  Riko was frankly ready to commit homicide.

 

                “Kise-kun, please leave,” Kuroko was saying.  “We are in the middle of practice.”

 

                “But Kurokocchi, you brushed me off yesterday too!”

 

                Bang!  “ _Kise!_ ”

 

                Oh great.  Another one.

 

                Riko facepalmed.  It really was an invasion.  What was wrong with these people?  Seirin didn't go storming other schools at random times of the day.

 

                Then again...

 

                “What the hell are you playing at, idiot?!”  Kasamatsu kicked his youngest player in the backside, making the blond yelp.  “Just because I cancelled practice what with half the team down with the flu doesn't mean you can invade other schools whenever you want!”

 

                Riko brightened.  Beside her, Hyuuga’ shoulders grudgingly lowered a notch.

 

                “B- But-”

 

                “No buts!”  Kasamatsu snapped, hauling Kise to his feet before glancing in Kuroko’s direction.  “Thanks for calling me.  This guy is so troublesome.  I need extra eyes just to keep track of him all the time.”

 

                Riko blinked.  Calling him?

 

                “E- Eh?”  Kise looked pitifully between his captain and Kuroko.  “Called him?  Kurokocchi, when did you call Kasamatsu-senpai?  Actually, when did you even get his number?”

 

                “I gave it to him,” Kasamatsu revealed brusquely a second before Kuroko clarified, “Kasamatsu-san asked me to keep him updated about your whereabouts after that time you skipped practice to come here.  I phoned him as soon as I heard your fangirls.”

 

                Riko could admit that that sounded like a grand idea.  She twitched when Kise began to tear up again.

 

                “Kurokocchi, you’re so mean!”  Kise wailed.  “You sold me out to my captain!”

 

                “Good thing he did too,” Kasamatsu groused as he began dragging Kise towards the door.  “You’re going to go through hell just for being here uninvited.  Now let’s go; I'm not lugging your body all the way back.”

 

                Riko returned the gesture when Kasamatsu glanced over at them with a curt nod and a “sorry for the interruption” before finally vacating the premises, taking the fangirls with them as Kise’s sobs faded into the distance.

 

                “Kuroko,” Hyuuga sighed as the gym doors swung shut.

 

Kuroko turned to them, the faintest edge of weariness crinkling his forehead.  Riko suddenly had the urge to go after the two Kaijou players and wring the blond’s neck.

 

                “I apologize, Captain,” Kuroko said quietly.

 

                Hyuuga rolled his eyes and Izuki moved forward to hook a friendly arm around Kuroko’s shoulders to draw him into their midst.

 

                “Not like it’s your fault,” Hyuuga grumbled.  “Except... what’s Kasamatsu’s number?”

 

                Kuroko blinked, and then quickly rattled off the digits.

 

                “Good,” Hyuuga nodded as he handed Riko back her cell.  “Next time, run and hide, and _we’ll_ deal with him.”

 

                Riko smiled evilly as Hyuuga’s clutch personality surfaced for a moment.

 

                “That’s right, Kuroko-kun,” She chirped sweetly.  “I’m sure Kise-kun won’t mind.”

 

                Kuroko’s expression didn't shift but a hint of laughter seeped into his eyes as Izuki and Mitobe ushered him off to a free net to practice his shooting again.

 

                Bang!

 

                Riko wheeled around, ready to tear Kise limb from limb for interrupting yet again.  She only moderately relaxed when she spotted Kagami standing in the doorway, scanning the gym.

 

                “Was that Kise bastard here again?!”  He demanded loudly.

 

                Riko released her Flames of Wrath TM and chucked her clipboard at the moron’s head.

 

“YOU'RE LATE, BAKAGAMI!!”

 

* * *

 

**8\. Rain**

 

                Tetsuya had always been... content in the rain.

 

                When the skies were dark and the heavens opened in a heavy downpour, most people took refuge inside and the streets would naturally empty.  Those who were still outside rushed to find cover, head down and paying little attention to anyone else on the road.

 

                Whenever this happened, Tetsuya liked to take long walks outside.  For a while, he could pretend to be like everyone else, to remain just as unnoticed as the next person on the street because everybody was too busy trying to reach their destination, and not because he was...

 

Well, invisible.  Holding too little presence to be anything important.

 

The rain also gave him an excuse to walk even slower than usual.  After all, it was only logical to be careful in weather like this, and no one could fault him for being a little late in returning to his empty house.

 

Not that there was anyone who would anyway, but even Tetsuya knew he was weird like that.  He liked to make excuses in his head, things like _sorry I'm late; I was caught out in the rain_ or _the weather was horrible; I had to take longer than usual, especially with basketball practice after school_ , and he’d imagine his father passing him a towel with a wry smile or his mother scolding him for not remembering an umbrella as she drew a bath for him.

 

That was what parents did, right?

 

Standing at the railing of a bridge and gazing up at the grey clouds overhead, he blinked when dark green filled his vision.  Craning his head around, Tetsuya found Kiyoshi staring back down at him with quizzical concern.

 

“Kuroko, what in the world are you doing out here in this weather?”

 

Tetsuya opened his mouth to answer but was, for once, unprepared.  He hadn't expected to bump into anyone he knew out here, and if he did, he’d thought they’d hurry on by without spotting him.

 

Kiyoshi’s gaze sharpened for a moment, the good-natured, happy-go-lucky expression that made most people think he was an idiot melting clean away.  The second-year studied him for a long minute, the pitter-patter drumming of rain against the umbrella being the only sound around them, and if Tetsuya had been anyone else, he would've started squirming.

 

At last, a large hand dropped gently on his head and ruffled his wet hair.

 

Tetsuya almost frowned but caught himself.  “Senpai, please don’t do that.  My hair will stick up.”

 

Kiyoshi laughed, and his typical goofiness returned as he moved forward again, hand moving to Tetsuya’s back and lightly propelling him forward.  “Sorry, sorry.  Come on then, let’s go to my place.”

 

Tetsuya really did frown this time.  “Senpai?”

 

“Well, you’re completely soaked,” Kiyoshi pointed out needlessly.  “And what kind of senpai would I be if I just left you out here?”

 

Tetsuya tried to protest.  He didn't make it past “But-”

 

“Come on,” Kiyoshi repeated, firmer this time as he prodded Tetsuya along.  “You’ll get a warm bath at my place, and my grandma’s probably already making dinner and she always makes extra so she won’t mind if I bring a friend over.”

 

Tetsuya almost stumbled over thin air as his mind whirled in bewilderment.  “That’s okay, Senpai.  I don’t wish to impose.”

 

“ _Kuroko_.”

 

Tetsuya stiffened, raising his head again to stare a little wide-eyed at the second-year.  Kiyoshi’s smile had taken on a softer edge that Tetsuya had no idea how to even begin interpreting.

 

“I insist,” Kiyoshi said warmly.  “You don’t want to go home, right?  So you can stay over at my place.  I've told my grandparents all about the entire team so they’ll definitely recognize you once they see you.  They’ll like you, don’t worry.  And I can break out an extra futon and you can stay the night.  It’ll be like a sleepover!”

 

Tetsuya had pulled to a stop by this point, and this time, Kiyoshi didn't continue nudging him along, stopping beside him instead, the single umbrella still shielding both of them as Kiyoshi remained persistently pressed against Tetsuya’s soaked form, shoulder to shoulder.

 

Tetsuya opened his mouth once more, again without the faintest clue what he was going to say (what was _wrong_ with him today?).  He ended up blurting out, “I'm getting you wet, Senpai.”

 

Well, that was random.

 

But Kiyoshi only laughed again and slung an arm around Tetsuya’s shoulders as they started down the street.  “So you are.  Hey, we can take a bath together then.  My house is really traditional, complete with those old-fashioned baths, and real men bathe together, you know?”

 

Tetsuya was sixty percent sure that Kiyoshi was only joking but one could never really say when it came to the unpredictable Uncrowned King.  Still, he found an unbidden smile curving his lips as Kiyoshi chattered on about nothing in particular, exuberant enough for the both of them so that it didn't matter if Tetsuya only listened or not.

 

                Tetsuya had always been content in the rain, but he’d never liked the chill that came with it.

 

                Kiyoshi’s hand on his shoulder, not-too-tight but comfortingly protective, somehow drove the chill out of his bones.

 

                Tetsuya imagined that this was a little of what having a big brother was like.

 

* * *

 

**Please leave a review on your way out.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Kuroko no Basket.
> 
> Author’s Notes: I know wiki says Tetsuya lives with his father, mother, and grandmother but I’ll be tweaking it a bit to suit these drabbles.

* * *

_“Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?”_

_“That depends a good deal on where you want to get to.”_

_“I don’t much care where-”_

_“Then it doesn't matter which way you go.”_

_“-so long as I get somewhere.”_

_“Oh, you’re sure to do that, if you only walk long enough.”_

_~ Alice and the Cheshire Cat, Alice in Wonderland_

 

* * *

 

**9\. Jaywalk**

 

                Taiga suggests, “Let’s cross here.  Going all the way down to the crosswalk and waiting for the light to change will take even longer, and we’re already running late.”

 

                He doesn't mean anything by it.  Everyone and their grandmother jaywalk in the States, and Taiga’s used to it.  Instead, he’s thinking about missing even a second of basketball, not to mention the extra sets of crunches that the coach will slap them with if they’re late so he’s understandably impatient when Kuroko shakes his head and insists on going the legal but much longer way (the damn light doesn't change all that often here either).

 

                “Come on!”  He urges, and darts across the street after glancing in both directions and finding a break in the traffic.  The oncoming car even slows for him, something that doesn't always happen in America.

 

                “Hurry up, Kuroko!”  Taiga waves from the opposite of the street, checking his watch anxiously.

 

                Still, Kuroko hesitates, almost like a child in the uncertain way he glances between Taiga and the crosswalk several dozen yards down, crowded with people all waiting for the stoplight.

 

                “Kuroko!”  Taiga calls a third time, all but jogging in place as the seconds tick by.  “It’s easy enough.  Look, after these two cars, okay?  The car after that isn’t that close behind.”

 

                Kuroko looks at him, blanker than ever, but he says nothing and cautiously steps off the curb as the second car passes.

 

                Kuroko takes three hurried steps forward.

 

                The light up ahead switches to yellow.

 

                The third car _speeds up_.

 

                A warning shout leaps from Taiga’s mouth even as his heart jumps to his throat and sheer terror rips through his entire being.

 

                Blood pounds in his ears as Kuroko swiftly retreats again, almost stumbling as he backs up onto the curb once more.  The car zooms by without care and flashes over the intersection just as the yellow light turns red.

 

                Taiga doesn't even have the semblance of mind to rage at the driver.  From across the road, Kuroko only gives him an unreadable look, paler than usual with a harsh grip on the strap of his bag.  He gestures at the crosswalk again as if he didn't just have a close shave with death, and Taiga watches his partner walk off, not daring to take his eyes off Kuroko for even a second.

 

                He feels sick.  It really wouldn't surprise him if he ends up throwing up before they even reach the school.

 

                Nowadays, with the exception of when Kuroko is _deliberately_ hiding his presence from him to scare the shit out of him, Taiga is so in tune with Kuroko that he almost always knows where the shorter teen is.

 

                He forgets that that isn’t the case with everyone.  In fact, it’s not the case for most of this planet’s population.

 

                He swallows hard.  No wonder Kuroko had wanted to use the crosswalk.  But Taiga had insisted, and it doesn't matter that Kuroko had semi-agreed in the end; what matters is that _Taiga_ had essentially told Kuroko to die.

 

                Not intentionally, _never_ intentionally, but if Taiga had only stopped for a second, _half_ a second, and _thought_ , he would've realized why Kuroko had faltered.

 

                Guilt clogs his throat.  He’s torn between wanting to bash his head in with the nearest hard object and convincing Kuroko to punch him in the face.  Several times.

 

                Either way though, Taiga feels like a grade-A asshole.  Basketball is the last thing on his mind now.  The only thing he _can_ think of is the fact that Kuroko could be lying dead or dying in the middle of the street right this moment.

 

                “Kagami-kun?”

 

                Taiga stares hard at Kuroko, just in case the car actually nicked him and the teen is injured in some way.  He isn’t, but when Taiga opens his mouth, all that tumbles out is a numb “Fuck, I'm _sorry_.”

 

                He doesn't even feel that small rush of embarrassment that usually accompanies him when he’s forced to apologize or talk about emotional issues.  He’s just really, _really_ fucking sorry.

 

                Kuroko blinks at him and shrugs the whole thing off like it doesn't matter.  “It’s alright; it’s happened before.  This time was my fault as well; I should’ve known better.  Shall we go?  We’re already late.”

 

                Still feeling like he’s struggling to breathe and feeling nowhere near absolved, Taiga follows Kuroko in a daze, eyes never straying far from his partner so he’d be quick enough to pull Kuroko out of the way in case another driver doesn't notice him.

 

(And yes, he knows they're on the sidewalk and the idea is utterly ridiculous but he’s just had one of the biggest scares of his life and he’s not planning on letting his guard down again anytime soon.)

 

“It’s- It’s happened before?”  Taiga stammers out, feeling his gut twist horribly at the mere thought of never even meeting Kuroko at all.

 

Kuroko cocks his head and eyes him carefully before nodding once.  “When I was a child.  I was playing with a basketball.  It rolled out onto the street.  There was a car coming, but it was moving really slowly and I thought it was because the driver had seen me so I went to get the ball.  The man was also on his cell phone though, and he sped up again when he hung up.  He didn't see me.”

 

“W- What happened?”  Taiga prods hoarsely, mind flashing back to the near-accident a few minutes ago.

 

Kuroko glances at him again, impassive.  “I moved out of the way in time.  I only got a scraped knee.”

 

“Well what about your parents?”  Taiga presses, a stir of anger sparking in his chest.  “They should’ve been keeping an eye on you!  Heck, they should’ve gotten the ball for you!”

 

Kuroko doesn't look at him this time, gaze focused straight ahead.  “My parents are often away on business.  My grandmother used to look after me sometimes but I was playing by myself that day.”

 

Taiga doesn't know whether he wants to slap himself or follow through with his sudden desire to hunt down Kuroko’s parents and punch their lights out, but the lifeless quality that Kuroko’s voice has taken on really makes Taiga feel helpless, especially since he has no idea how to fix it.

 

“Kagami-kun, it’s alright,” Kuroko repeats his earlier words.  He quirks the slightest of smiles, happy and grateful for reasons unknown.  “Thank you.”

 

This just serves to make Taiga feel even guiltier, and when they reach the school and Coach breathes fire at him as Kuroko goes through his usual ‘I was here all along, you just didn't see me’ routine, Taiga doesn't sell him out like he usually does so they’d have to suffer together.  Instead, he shoves Kuroko in the general direction of the game already going on, dutifully starts his punishment laps without complaint, and irritates the coach several times on purpose just so she’d hand out extra sets of push-ups and sprints for him.

 

And then, after school, Taiga drags a bemused Kuroko to Maji Burger and treats him to two vanilla shakes and a burger (he’d have treated him to a dozen burgers but Kuroko’s stomach is tiny).

 

“Kagami-kun is very kind,” Kuroko tells him in that straightforward way of his halfway through his second milkshake.

 

Taiga flushes red and chews aggressively at his burger to ward off a wave of embarrassment.  “Don’t say stupid things like that, idiot!”

 

His partner says nothing more, but afterwards, when they reach the junction where they normally part ways, Kuroko turns and smiles at him once more, bright-eyed and sincere.

 

“It’s alright, Kagami-kun,” Kuroko says a third time, and unlike before, Taiga feels something in his gut loosen, and that nauseous sensation that has plagued him since this morning fades away at last.

 

                Things more or less go back to normal (less rather than more because Seirin is _never_ normal), Taiga makes certain to never, _ever_ cross another street in the middle of running traffic (even after Kuroko points out that jaywalking is fine if he’s crossing with other people at the same time), and the next time a jaywalking opportunity comes around and _Kise_ frantically suggests they not wait for the light to change (they bumped into Kise earlier and all three of them have ended up running away from the bastard’s fangirls), Taiga solves the dilemma by sacrificing the blond to the rabid wolves so that he and Kuroko can slip away.

 

                When Kise catches up with them later and pouts dramatically at their desertion, Taiga sends Kuroko over to a nearby cafe to buy them drinks before rounding on Kise and making it _very_ clear just why jaywalking is an extremely Bad Idea when it comes to Kuroko (And how the hell could the airhead not know?  He had been on the same team as Kuroko for two years.  Then again, Taiga’s rapidly learning that the Generation of Miracles were a messed-up bunch, Kuroko included.).

 

                Taiga is sufficiently satisfied when Kise looks pale for the rest of the day.  Serves him right.

 

* * *

 

**10\. Cake**

 

                “-and the newbies are going to be so pathetic-”

 

                Tetsuya sighs and interrupts his... self-appointed rival for the fifth time that day.  “Tsugawa-kun, please refrain from badmouthing your teammates.”

 

                Tsugawa subsides with a wordless grumble, simultaneously looking sulky and determined as he turns back to the third attempt at a cake that Tetsuya has been teaching the Seihou player to make.

 

                To be honest, Tetsuya has no idea why he is here in the first place.  He did not _plan_ to be here; in fact, he was on his way to Maji Burger when he bumped into Tsugawa.

 

                They somehow ended up eating dinner together, or rather, Tsugawa invited himself along and Tetsuya was too polite to tell him to go away.  Normally, he would actually have no qualms about doing so (he does it to Kise on a regular basis) but Tsugawa looked unreasonably fired up to see him, and equally jittery about something else, distracted and shooting off his mouth even more than usual.

 

                Tsugawa commented on everything from his school to his teachers to his classes to the fresh blood entering the Seihou team, all of it interspersed with careless insults.  For the most part, Tetsuya simply ignored him; he was fine with Tsugawa doing all the talking so long as he didn't start remarking on _Seirin_.

 

                However, somewhere between semi-listening to Tsugawa’s spiel about his senpai and drinking his milkshake, Tetsuya learned that Seihou’s center and point guard, Iwamura and Kasuga, will both be retiring from the team.  In fact, they have all but done so already, no longer taking part in practices and only lingering for a few more days to make sure that the newer players are settling in properly.

 

                _“We’re throwing a farewell party for them,”_ Tsugawa has told him with typical gusto.  _“I'm in charge of the cake.”_

 

                Except, as Tetsuya was informed in great detail, the party is tomorrow, the cake Tsugawa ordered has already been made, and everything was perfect right up until someone found out from somewhere that Kasuga is allergic to chocolate and promptly texted Tsugawa about it only an hour ago.

 

                Tsugawa, who was on his way to pick up the cake.  More specifically, the _chocolate_ ice-cream cake.

 

 _“I didn't even know you_ could _be allergic to chocolate!”_   Tsugawa has complained more than once.

 

Tetsuya stayed calm as Tsugawa moaned about all the closed bakeries and the lack of time to order another cake in the morning since the party will be at noon.

 

Sometime after that, as Tsugawa finally ran out of words and slumped miserably on the opposite side of the table, Tetsuya suggested, _“You can bake one.”_

_“Like I’d know how!”_   Tsugawa huffed.

 

 _“I can teach you,”_ Tetsuya offered on a whim.

 

And that is how Tetsuya finds himself standing in Tsugawa’s kitchen at eleven-thirty at night, stifling the urge to yawn as he patiently guides his (self-proclaimed) rival through the process of making an ice-cream cake yet again.  It’s not like he’s a first-class pâtissier either; he can cook eggs and fry rice and work the microwave but that’s about it when it comes to everyday meals.  Half his life’s diet’s always been microwavable, instant, or store-bought.

 

But if there’s one thing Tetsuya is adept at in the kitchen, it’s making desserts.  He doesn't do it often – hasn’t in years – but baking pastries and cakes was one of the few things his grandma managed to teach him before she entered the hospital permanently.  He isn’t likely to forget anytime soon.

 

“Gently, Tsugawa-kun,” Tetsuya cuts in when the Seihou player’s hands move too roughly.  “Remember to fold the egg whites into the egg yolk mixture in three additions or it won’t set properly.”

 

Tsugawa nods doggedly, and Tetsuya is reminded of the reason why, despite the other teen’s tendency to blurt out his thoughts without care, he still likes the first-year well enough – Tsugawa can be immeasurably stubborn when he sets his mind to a task (he’s been texting Tetsuya on and off for a rematch ever since the Interhigh championships, not to mention he adamantly insists on baking the cake all on his own, enough said).

 

                It takes two more tries and another four hours before Tsugawa is satisfied with the end result.  The kitchen is covered in flour and icing, Tsugawa looks half-asleep and proud as heck, and a complete strawberry-vanilla ice-cream cake is sitting on the counter.

 

                Tetsuya releases a relieved but inaudible sigh as he drops into a nearby chair.  Besides guiding Tsugawa through the steps, he also took up the job of decorating the cake.  Tetsuya has a steadier hand, so _Good Luck, Iwamura-buchou and Kasuga-senpai!_ is scrawled on top in elegant white kanji against the black backdrop of the Seihou basketball uniform.

 

                Other than that, tiny basketballs made of hardened sugar dot the outer edge of the otherwise white cake.  Only the inside would be pink, and there wasn't a drop of chocolate anywhere.

 

                “Tetsuya!”

 

                Tetsuya twitches subtly when Tsugawa all but throws himself on him and gives him a half-hug, half-shake, looking almost teary-eyed (though that could be chalked up to the late hour).

 

                _When did I give you permission to use my first name?_  Tetsuya mentally enquires, more tired than annoyed.

 

                “Thank you thank you thank you!”  The Seihou player says fervently.  “Everything has to be perfect, and the others are all useless, leaving the damn cake to me half a day before the party!”

 

                “Lower your voice, Tsugawa-kun,” Tetsuya just deadpans, shrugging the exhaustion-induced hyper teen off of him as he stands up.  “Your parents are already asleep.”

 

                He prompts Tsugawa to put the cake in the fridge and warns him not to take it out again until he leaves for the party before checking his watch.  It is three-twenty in the morning; Tetsuya sends up thanks that he has no school tomorrow.

 

                “I should head home,” He announces, reaching for his coat.

 

                “What?  Are you crazy?  It’s the middle of the night!”  Tsugawa exclaims, cracking a jaw-breaking yawn even as he shepherds Tetsuya out of the kitchen.  “You can just crash here; my parents won’t mind.

 

                “Heck they’ve already set up a futon for you,” He adds when they reach Tsugawa’s bedroom.  A futon is spread out neatly on the ground, an extra blanket folded neatly beside it probably in case Tetsuya gets cold.

 

                Tetsuya hovers awkwardly in the doorway but Tsugawa is already pushing him in the direction of the bathroom with a fresh set of pajamas.

 

                When Tetsuya comes back out, Tsugawa is already snoring away on his bed, drooling on his pillow with half his blankets shed to the side and falling off the bed.

 

                Tetsuya wonders if he should wake the other teen up, but then figures that there’s only a few more hours until Tsugawa would have to wake up anyway, and decides against it.

 

Instead, after folding his own clothes and placing them next to the futon, he steps over to Tsugawa’s bed and yanks the blankets back in place (it would be ironically hilarious if the teen catches a cold after all his hard work) before turning and flicking off the light.  Slipping into the futon, Tetsuya is surprised when he finds himself nodding off in a matter of minutes.

 

In the morning, Tetsuya wakes when Tsugawa trips over him and crashes into the bookshelf, and then he gets up anyway when Tsugawa’s mother scolds her son for causing a ruckus before smiling cheerfully in Tetsuya’s direction and telling him that there would be pancakes waiting for him when he comes downstairs.

 

Tetsuya literally can’t remember the last time his own mother made him breakfast, and he ends up sitting as unnoticed as possible at the dining table as Tsugawa’s mother bustles around them and Tsugawa’s father reads the paper and guffaws loudly with his son over something in the news.

 

Tetsuya doesn’t get to fade into the background for long though as Tsugawa’s mother makes small talk with him (clearly, this is a naturally chatty family), asking after his classes and basketball practices, and doesn't seem to mind Tetsuya’s monotone responses (perhaps Tsugawa-kun has told them about him?).

 

And then, as Tetsuya is shrugging on his coat and preparing to leave, Tsugawa takes out the cake, and even Tetsuya is hard-pressed not to tinge red when Tsugawa’s mother runs for the camera and orders both her son and Tetsuya to stand beside it, completely ignoring Tetsuya’s objections.

 

By the time they finally leave, Tetsuya is half-reeling from all the... _enthusiasm_ in the Tsugawa household, though this seems to be the norm if Tsugawa’s unconcerned chatter was anything to go by.

 

“I’d invite you but you’re not part of the team so it’d just be weird,” Tsugawa says in that obliviously blunt way of his.

 

Tetsuya suppresses the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose as a headache builds up behind his eyes.

 

“I have sleep to catch up on,” Tetsuya answers instead.  They reach an intersection and he bobs his head in a polite farewell.  “Thank you for having me over, Tsugawa-kun.  I will see you around.”

 

Tetsuya only manages to turn and take a step before a hand clamps down on his shoulder.

 

“Thanks for helping me with the cake,” Tsugawa says somewhat uncomfortably, and for once, the first-year’s usual abrasive tone of voice is absent, replaced by clumsy but genuine sincerity.

 

                “You’re still my rival though so don’t expect me to go easy on you when we play each other again!”  Tsugawa tacks on, and in spite of himself, Tetsuya has to hide an amused smile as he nods stoically once more before parting ways at last.

 

                Two days later, Tetsuya wonders when his life made such a one-eighty turn from his usual solitary existence and why he wasn't informed as he is accosted at the gates of Seirin after basketball practice by an eager Tsugawa, a gruff Iwamura, and a smiling Kasuga, all three Seihou students whisking him off for dinner at some restaurant ( _Our treat; don’t worry about paying!_ ) and leaving Tetsuya’s bewildered team behind.

 

                (Of course, ten minutes into said dinner, the rest of Seirin storms the place and the party of four becomes a party of fifteen.  Seirin isn’t willing to leave him alone with other teams, and Seihou isn’t about to let him go without a good dinner, so chairs are pulled up, tables are pushed together, arguments break out, and by the end of the night, the restaurant owners all but chuck them out for being too rowdy.)

 

                And to think, all this started with a cake.

 

* * *

 

**11\. Hospital**

 

                Shun is on his way to the local bookstore that sells his favourite joke books when he spots Kuroko across the street, out of school uniform and bundled up in a brown coat to ward off the windy weather as he trudges down the street.  He hasn’t seen Shun, and seems distracted at best as he rounds into the front entrance of a large parking lot.

 

                Shun feels a thrum of concern run through him.  Kuroko has just entered the parking lot of a _hospital_.

 

                Immediately, questions bombard his mind.  Is Kuroko hurt?  Why don’t any of them know about it?  Why is Kuroko going _alone_?

 

                Without really thinking it through, Shun’s feet carry him to the hospital entrance as well.  He’s never been here before.  He’s an only child, no siblings and only cousins he sees once a year to speak of, and neither of his parents has ever been injured to the point where it warranted a hospital visit.  Kiyoshi was hospitalized in a different – and less expensive – treatment centre.

 

                Shun slips in unobtrusively, and it only takes him a few moments to catch sight of Kuroko again, standing by the counter and trying to get the receptionist’s attention.  What little of the first-year’s expression that Shun can make out (due to familiarity and experience) is mostly resigned, and it sends a spike of anger through him as he watches the exchange.

 

                Shun almost moves forward to intervene and maybe snap a few words at the receptionist in the process, but Kuroko leans forward and waves a hand directly in front of the woman’s face.  The woman jerks and glances up, surprised and annoyed, and even though he can’t hear the exact words, Shun knows a condescending reprimand when he sees one.

 

                He clenches his hands and grits his teeth to stop himself from doing anything rash.  Kuroko is signing the visitation log now; he’s clearly here to see someone and he may not appreciate having Shun there.

 

                This decision is taken out of his hands when Kuroko turns and makes for the elevators but doesn't take three steps before he turns back and zeroes in on Shun like a homing beacon.

 

                That is just a bit uncanny, though Shun supposes he can’t talk; most of the team have developed a sort of sixth sense when it comes to locating Kuroko nowadays.

 

                Kuroko blinks once at him.  His gaze shifts to the elevators and then back to Shun before cocking his head to the side in a clear question.

 

                Shun hesitates for a moment before making his way forward.  It would be plain stupid to turn around and walk away now, not to mention it might hurt Kuroko’s feelings, and Shun _is_ curious.

 

                And then Kuroko opens his mouth and says, “My grandmother stays here.  She has terminal cancer.”

 

                Outwardly, Shun remains calm as he scribbles his name in the visitors’ log and follows Kuroko up to the third floor.  Inwardly, he freaks out.

 

                This is not his area of expertise.  He is not qualified for this.  _Anyone_ would be better than him.  Kiyoshi would be an excellent choice; he is naturally good at this type of thing.  Hyuuga, for all his lectures and threats, takes good care of the team like they’re precious family.  Riko can be like a particularly scary but caring mother to all of them.  Mitobe has a flock of younger siblings under his belt.  Even _Koganei_ would be better; he has two older sisters whom Shun has personally seen him comfort after one of them wails about a boyfriend dumping her and the other breaks an arm in a bicycle accident.

 

                Hell, _Kagami_ should be here.  No one understands Kuroko as effortlessly as the red-haired first-year does.

 

                But none of them are, and Shun would feel like a monumental ass if he makes up an excuse and runs out now.  Besides, it’s just visiting Kuroko’s sick grandma – how bad could it be?

 

                Kuroko brings them to a private, spacious room with wide windows, and Shun is a little surprised to see the old lady dozing in the lone bed. She doesn't look much like Kuroko at all.  Grey hair with a few traces of brown and wrinkles aside, the nose and jawline and forehead are all different.

 

                Shun watches though as Kuroko moves forward swiftly and takes his grandmother’s hand, murmuring something too quiet for Shun to hear, but the woman stirs, and Shun instantly recognizes the blue eyes that flutter open (Kuroko’s are blanker though, while Kuroko’s grandmother’s eyes are warm and kind if somewhat weary).

 

                She welcomes Kuroko with a fond, delighted smile and more quiet words before turning questioningly towards Shun, and Shun takes his cue to step forward and bow in greeting.  He doesn't have to introduce himself though as Kuroko’s grandmother correctly guesses, “Ah, you’re one of Tetsu-chan’s senpai, aren’t you?  Izuki-kun, I believe?  My grandson often talks about his friends.”

 

                Shun’s eyes widen in surprise, and then widen even further in shock because this is quite possibly the first time he has ever seen Kuroko blush.  It’s faint and barely detectable but Shun’s eyes aren’t just for show and he catches it all the same.

 

                The next hour is spent listening to the many stories of Kuroko as a child that Kuroko’s grandmother ( _Kasumi-baa-san or just Obaa-san is fine, dear; Kuroko-san is much too formal_ ) is more than willing to dish out.  For a woman who is dying of cancer and related to Kuroko to boot, she is unexpectedly full of life.  Shun can’t help laughing at some of the stories ( _Tetsu-chan once brought home a whole box of abandoned kittens!  I remember it was raining that day and he was muddy from head to toe, and then he absolutely refused to let them go to a pet adoption centre!  We had to find homes for all six of them by ourselves; it took two months!_ ), and he thinks that Hyuuga and the coach would be green with envy if they ever find out how much blackmail material Izuki is storing away (he wouldn't really use it, but he can certainly tease Kuroko with it).

 

                They have to leave when a doctor comes in to check on Kuroko’s grandmother, who for all her energy is still eighty-four years old and a terminally ill patient at that.

 

                “I like your grandmother, Kuroko,” Shun says as they exit the hospital, and he gives himself a mental pat on the back when that piece of honesty draws a small smile from his kouhai.

 

                His good humour fades though when he remembers that Kuroko has to come visit at the hospital for a reason, and he wonders where Kuroko’s parents are.  It’s a Sunday, but perhaps they are too busy to visit today?  He frowns a little when he can’t remember any mention of Kuroko’s mother or father in any of Kasumi-baa-san’s stories.

 

                He doesn't press for answers though because while Kuroko looks content enough, there’s also a dullness in his eyes and a hunch in his shoulders that worries Shun.

 

                “Thanks for coming to visit my grandmother, Izuki-senpai,” Kuroko speaks up as they round a corner.  Shun ruefully reminds the first-year that there was no actual inviting involved.  Kuroko shrugs and says that doesn't matter because Shun made her happy.

 

                Shun can’t quite help grinning at that.

 

                In the end, Shun doesn't mention this visit to any of the others; it’s Kuroko’s business after all, and Kuroko will tell them when he’s ready (especially Kagami; those two can never keep secrets from each other for very long).  There’s something about the first-year’s family that makes Shun apprehensive, but for now, he’ll leave it alone and keep an even closer eye on Kuroko instead.

 

                Still, Shun’s beginning to see a change in his overly-reticent kouhai, especially when Kuroko seeks him out after practice two weeks later and asks whether or not Shun would like to go visit Kuroko’s grandmother with him again on the coming Sunday.

 

                Shun is nodding almost before Kuroko – who never asks for anything – finishes asking.

 

                For now, this is enough.

 

* * *

 

**Please leave a review on your way out.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Kuroko no Basket.
> 
> Author’s Notes: Well, I had originally planned to keep this mostly about Seirin but I figured what the heck, might as well throw some GoMs interactions in there as well. I personally think Seirin’s best for Kuroko but for the most part, I adore the GoMs too (bar Akashi who’s someone I kinda like and kinda hate at the same time).  
> And just a reminder – these aren’t all in order but there’ll be references to previous drabbles in future ones.

* * *

_“Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?”_

_“That depends a good deal on where you want to get to.”_

_“I don’t much care where-”_

_“Then it doesn't matter which way you go.”_

_“-so long as I get somewhere.”_

_“Oh, you’re sure to do that, if you only walk long enough.”_

_~ Alice and the Cheshire Cat, Alice in Wonderland_

* * *

**12\. Fix**

 

                Tetsuya frowned as he watched his Phantom Shot bounce off the rim of the net.  He had upped his scoring average to fifty-five percent but that still meant he missed forty-five percent of the time.

 

                With a sigh, he scooped up the basketball as it rolled back towards him, dribbling it three times before executing the shot again.  This time, the swish of the net met his ears, but the next two times bounced off the rim again.  He made a shot one last time and was pleased to see it go straight in.

 

                Tetsuya exhaled shortly, leaning forward and resting his hands against his thighs as he let the ball roll away after it had hit the ground again.  He had been practicing for three hours now in an empty court near his house by himself, and he had had practice with the team earlier, so perhaps it was time for a break.  If he overdid it, Coach would know and she’d come after Tetsuya with a vengeance.

 

                He straightened, still annoyingly drained; his stamina would never be as good as... well, anyone else’s.  Average at best.  Maybe slightly above average by the time he graduated.

 

                He stiffened when quiet footsteps sounded on his right, and on the side of the court, half-hidden in the shadows, Nigou had already perked up, blue eyes alert.  A second later, Tetsuya’s basketball came bouncing back towards him in an easy pass.

 

                Tetsuya caught it automatically, turning as he did so and expertly hiding his surprise when a looming figure wearing a nondescript light brown jacket trudged out into the glow of the streetlight overlooking the court.

 

                “Good evening,” Tetsuya dipped his head in a polite bow.  “Murasakibara-kun.”

 

                Frankly, he hadn’t the faintest clue why his old teammate was here.  The game against Yousen had been several days ago, and Tetsuya hadn't expected to see any of them again until at least the semi-finals – next week – where a few of them might come to watch Seirin’s game against Kaijou.

 

                Yet here was Murasakibara, evidently in Tokyo instead of Akita where the taller boy had moved to when they had all gone their separate ways after middle school.  The two prefectures weren’t exactly close either; it took over seven hours just to get from one region to the other, and that was by car.  It would take even longer on public transit.

 

                Tetsuya inwardly frowned when Murasakibara, having stopped a few paces away, reached out and patted him on the head.

 

                “Please don’t do that, Murasakibara-kun,” Tetsuya intoned for what had to be the hundredth time throughout their acquaintance.  After a moment, he added with deadpan annoyance, “I am not a dog.”

 

                Murasakibara’s hand paused and then withdrew, which was a first.  Usually, the tall basketball player would make some remark that might or might not irritate Tetsuya further depending on both their moods.  The two of them were surprisingly friendly when basketball wasn't added to the equation, but some – basically the other Generation of Miracles – would say that they were pretty much at each other’s throats any other time.

 

                As it was, seeing as they were standing on a basketball court and Tetsuya was currently holding a basketball, not to mention Yousen had lost to Seirin less than a week ago, and finally add to that the fact that Murasakibara’s defense had personally lost to _Tetsuya’s_ shots of all things (and they both knew it), Tetsuya couldn't see this conversation going well.

 

                _“I'm gonna quit basketball.”_

 

                The words echoed from his memories.  Yeah, not well at all.

 

Tetsuya knew Murasakibara loved basketball or he wouldn't have been able to enter the Zone in the last twenty seconds of their match, not to mention he had even cried after Yousen had lost, looking more frustrated than Tetsuya had ever seen him.  The taller teen had told Kiyoshi that he would quit but Tetsuya really didn't think he would.  Still, it’d be a miracle if Murasakibara ever admitted that he didn't hate basketball.

 

                The silence between them stretched, but Tetsuya was used to long silences; he could stand here all day and night without so much as a twitch if he had to.

 

                “Does Kuro-chin have energy for one more basket?”

 

                Tetsuya blinked, and even he was hard-pressed not to gape a little at the question.  He stood stoically in place as Murasakibara meandered away to the far end of the court, shrugging off his coat and carelessly tossing it to the side before stationing himself several feet in front of the hoop.  Even from this distance, Tetsuya could see Murasakibara’s eyes narrow with fearsome focus.

 

                He stared for a moment longer before dropping his gaze to the ball in his hands.  He had no idea what had gotten into Murasakibara but he wasn't about to turn the other teen down if the Yousen player actually _wanted_ to play.

 

                So he drew in a deep breath, gathered what little energy he still had (he was tired but nowhere near as tired as he normally would be after a difficult match), and dribbled down the court, watching Murasakibara’s movements with keen attention.

 

                As Tetsuya got within range and prepared to shoot, Murasakibara darted in to block him, large frame practically towering over Tetsuya.

 

Tetsuya waited until the last second before using his Vanishing Drive to skirt around Murasakibara, giving Tetsuya the necessary opening to make his Phantom Shot.  Heartbeats later, the ball dropped neatly into the basket with the satisfying sound of nothing but net.

 

Tetsuya blew out a short breath as fatigue dragged at his limbs, warning him of his limits.  Swiping an arm across his forehead, he cautiously glanced to the side at Murasakibara.  Would his former teammate be angry?  Upset?

 

To Tetsuya’s puzzlement, Murasakibara only stood there, staring absently in the direction of where the ball had bounced and rolled away.

 

They stayed like that for a few minutes as Tetsuya caught his breath and Murasakibara seemed to be lost in thought.  The silence between them wasn't exactly comfortable but it wasn’t awkward either.  Just... a little tense.

 

“I'm hungry.”

 

Tetsuya’s eyebrows rose at the abrupt statement from Murasakibara.  He watched as the taller teen wandered back to where he had left his coat, picking it up and dusting it off before glancing back at Tetsuya.

 

“I want ice-cream, Kuro-chin,” Murasakibara said hopefully with an expression that would've been called puppy-dog eyes on anyone else.

 

Tetsuya blinked before mentally releasing a sigh and trotting off to retrieve his basketball before heading back to the rest of his belongings.  Back in middle school, he – as well as Akashi – had always been the one to supply Murasakibara with sweets whenever the purple-haired teen didn't have any or ran out (Kise supplied them too, but he was mostly conned into doing it).

 

Ten minutes later, they were exiting a convenience store – coincidentally, it was the same one they had all frequented together back when they were still in Teikou – with vanilla ice-creams in hand and Nigou weaving between their ankles.  Tetsuya had also bought a small bag of candy for Murasakibara when he’d noticed his old teammate eyeing them wistfully.

 

Walking without any real direction down the street, Tetsuya finally enquired, “What are you doing in Tokyo, Murasakibara-kun?”

 

“Mm...” Murasakibara bit into his cone before looking skyward as if the emerging stars would give him an answer.  “I got on a train to go to this huge sweetshop that was just opening today, and then I realized I was on the wrong train, but then I fell asleep before the train got to a station where I could switch, and I ended up in Tokyo by the time I woke up.”

 

Anyone else would've snorted at the explanation.  Tetsuya just licked at his ice-cream some more.  One never knew with Murasakibara; that story could actually be true.

 

“I saw Kuro-chin practicing,” Murasakibara continued offhandedly.  “So I thought I might as well say hi.”

 

That wasn't quite a lie – it was too vague to be one – but Tetsuya knew for a fact that the train station was at least a fifteen-minute walk from where he had been practicing.

 

They walked in silence once again, neither feeling the need to make small talk as they polished off their ice-creams.

 

They reached an intersection where Tetsuya would need to turn left and Murasakibara would have to keep going to get to where his parents still resided even after he had moved to Akita.

 

Tetsuya halted, and then craned his head up to stare at the taller teen.  “Are you going to quit basketball, Murasakibara-kun?”

 

Murasakibara scowled rather defensively and bristled in the way he always did when he was gearing up for yet another argument with Tetsuya.  “If I want to quit, you can’t stop me, Kuro-chin.”

 

Tetsuya opened his mouth, an instinctive retort on the tip of his tongue.  And then he paused and closed his mouth again.  All their arguments had always ended with both of them frustrated and unhappy; nothing good had ever come of it.  Besides, Tetsuya’s ideals were his and his alone, while Murasakibara had his own beliefs.  Maybe continuing to push his point wasn't all that good an idea.  Tetsuya had shown his conviction on the court in the Seirin-Yousen match; if that hadn't convinced Murasakibara of Tetsuya’s resolve, nothing Tetsuya said now would make a difference.

 

So he chose to nod instead, wiping his mouth with a napkin as he swallowed the last of his ice-cream cone.  “It’s getting late, Murasakibara-kun.  Until next time then.”

 

Tetsuya inclined his head at a somewhat stunned-looking Murasakibara, murmuring a goodnight as he scooped Nigou into his arms before turning away and heading off towards the general direction of his house.  He hadn't done his shopping this week but there should still be some leftovers in the fridge that he could reheat.

 

“You've changed, Kuro-chin.”

 

Tetsuya stopped once more but he didn't turn around.  Nigou’s ears flicked attentively.  Murasakibara’s voice had taken on that serious edge that Tetsuya had only ever heard during their two schools’ match against each other.

 

Had he changed?  Maybe.  He’d certainly found himself having to talk more often since his team was almost always around him.  And he thought he’d finally found a place where he wouldn't be left behind, where his captain and coach cared enough to push him into being the best he could be and still reach for new levels instead of stopping, where his partner always turned to him with determined grins and unshakeable trust whenever they had to pull off something impossible and brilliant, where he was noticed and acknowledged and had good friends and senpai to kick up a fuss when other people forgot him.

 

So yes, maybe he had changed, but Tetsuya thought it was for the better.  He wasn't alone anymore, and Seirin never sparked dread in his gut at odd times, never made him think that they might drift apart one day even after they all graduated.

 

“Muro-chin cried when I turned in my resignation,” Murasakibara carried on behind Tetsuya, sounding nonchalant as he spoke.

 

Tetsuya frowned a little.  He didn't really know Himuro Tatsuya outside of basketball and what Kagami had told him (not to mention he had the guts to punch Murasakibara) but the shooting guard was Kagami’s brother figure and childhood friend, and by default, that meant he came under Tetsuya’s sphere of ‘people he took extra care to keep an ear and eye out for’.

 

                So Tetsuya wasn't all that thrilled that Murasakibara had made Himuro cry twice in the span of a few days.  The black-haired teen didn't strike Tetsuya as the type to cry a lot either.

 

                “He punched me again,” Murasakibara revealed idly.  “And then he stomped off and I haven’t seen him since.”

 

                ...Oh.

 

                Oh no.

 

                Tetsuya couldn't believe his ears.  There was just no way Murasakibara had come all this way just to ask _Tetsuya_ of all people how to fix a friendship, right?  The Yousen player couldn't have picked a worse person; Tetsuya was inept at best when it came to keeping acquaintances.  Anyone was better.  _Midorima_ was better; he had Takao now.  All Tetsuya had was-

 

                Well, he supposed he had Kagami and everyone else in Seirin.  Not to mention Tsugawa who, for some reason, wouldn't stop bugging him.  And there were Tsugawa’s two senpai as well who had wrangled Tetsuya’s number from him during dinner that one time and had gotten into the habit of texting him about random things on occasion (this was mostly just Kasuga, who, in Tetsuya’s opinion, was kind of weird).  And Takao who, much to Tetsuya’s annoyance, refused to call him anything except ‘Tet-chan’ now (Midorima had looked very smug about this).  And Kasamatsu who texted him for blackmail material whenever Kise was acting up.

 

                Okay, so maybe he could see why Murasakibara had come to him.  Still, the taller teen usually went to Akashi when he needed something (though granted, Akashi’s solution would probably be to wave his scissors at the problem until it was no longer one; their old captain was an excellent strategist but even Tetsuya knew that threatening people wasn't the best way to go about saying sorry, and Akashi was _never_ sorry anyway).

 

                “You should try being honest,” Tetsuya found himself saying before he could censure it.  Well, he had already started; might as well go through with it.  What was that English saying?  In for a penny, in for a pound?  Something like that.  He turned back to face Murasakibara, whose features were half-hidden in shadows.

 

                Murasakibara’s mouth tilted down.  “Honest about what, Kuro-chin?  I was very honest to Muro-chin when I turned in my resignation.  I hate basketball after all.”

 

                “No,” Tetsuya steeled himself for the potential outbreak of an argument.  “That’s a lie.”

 

                There was a lengthy silence.  The expression on Murasakibara’s face bordered on ominous.

 

                “We both know,” Tetsuya forged on when it became clear that Murasakibara wasn't going to say anything.  “You would never have been able to enter the Zone if you really do hate basketball, Murasakibara-kun.  I'm sure Himuro-san knows it too.  I think that might be why he is upset with you.  He’s a good friend of yours, isn’t he?  And he hates that you take your talent in basketball for granted, and the way you go around pretending you don’t care about it at all.  If you’re really going to quit basketball, then no one can stop you, but I think you should at least have the decency to be honest about the reason.  Especially to your friends.”

 

                Tetsuya fell silent, still not used to talking so much.  Normally, he only forgot himself in the rare times when he was angry.

 

                He almost started when a large hand patted him on the head again.  Murasakibara could move with astonishingly light steps for such a tall person.

 

                Tetsuya felt a stir of exasperation at being patted on the head again but he held it back and glanced up at Murasakibara instead.

 

                “You really have changed, Kuro-chin.”

 

                And for a split second, Murasakibara looked almost nostalgic, but it was gone just as quickly as it had come, and Tetsuya was left wondering if it had been there in the first place.

 

                “Well, I’ll see Kuro-chin later,” Murasakibara retreated after offering a soft pat for Nigou as well, and his typical lazy indifference settled over him once more.  “Don’t go losing to Ki-chin next week.  Oh, though maybe you shouldn't tell Ki-chin I said that; he’ll cry on me for picking sides.  And tell your partner that Muro-chin will probably drag me back here to watch the game.  Mm... how troublesome.”

 

                Tetsuya’s eyebrow twitched as Murasakibara loped away into the night, still mumbling absentmindedly to himself as he disappeared.

 

                With a sigh, Tetsuya started home as well.  He could only hope now that his advice would work, though he was hoping even more that Murasakibara would stop being so stubborn and retract his resignation.  Tetsuya doubted quitting basketball would make his former teammate happy.

 

                Three days later, just before the start of Seirin’s match against Kaijou, Tetsuya glanced up briefly into the stands and found Murasakibara being dragged into the front row by Himuro.  The former was munching on snacks per usual, though he spared a second to wave at Tetsuya when they caught each other’s eye.

 

                Tetsuya smiled to himself before turning his entire focus back on the game.

 

                Murasakibara was back in his Yousen team jersey.

 

* * *

 

**13\. Puppy**

 

                “What do you think?”

 

                “Arf!”

 

                “Mm, me too.”

 

                “Arf!”

 

                “Right, I’ll take that as a yes.”

 

                Crouching down, Tetsuya shed his coat, laid it on the ground, and carefully placed the shivering puppy into the folds of the jacket, first meticulously removing as much of the snow from its black fur as possible before wrapping it up and getting to his feet again.

 

                Not giving the cardboard box dumped in the alleyway another glance (personally, Tetsuya found the _Give Him a Home_ hastily scribbled on the side of the box despicable), Tetsuya trudged back onto the main sidewalk, Nigou trotting at his heels.

 

                “We should take him to the vet,” Tetsuya muttered, shivering a little himself as the chill began to seep through his clothes.  Nigou barked again and set off down the road towards the clinic that Tetsuya had brought Nigou to after Seirin had taken him in.

 

                Ten minutes later, they found the clinic closed, the snow falling even harder, and now at least half an hour away from home.

 

                Gritting his teeth mostly so that they would stop chattering, Tetsuya tightened his hold on the black pup currently blinking sleepy blue eyes up at him from within his jacket.

 

                “I suppose we should head home then,” Tetsuya murmured to Nigou who was now snuffling worriedly at Tetsuya’s boots.  Tetsuya was at least grateful that Nigou was a husky and therefore not affected by a Japanese winter.

 

                “Come on, boy,” Tetsuya urged, turning around and setting off down the street once more.  He sneezed when a particularly harsh gust of wind howled past him, and he wished he hadn't forgotten his scarf at home.  Then again, he had only made the trip out to visit his grandma; he hadn't expected to take a side trip on the way back, but what else could he do when he’d spotted a car slowing to a stop and tossing a box, puppy and all, into an alleyway before driving away?

 

                “Arf!  Arf!”

 

                Tetsuya blinked the snow from his eyelashes and squinted ahead when Nigou suddenly rushed forward and turned up the street rather than down.

 

                “Nigou, that’s the wrong way!”  Tetsuya called out, but Nigou only woofed urgently once more and bounded forward a few steps more before pausing and looking back.  Clearly, he wanted Tetsuya to follow.

 

                Tetsuya hesitated, and then sighed and headed after Nigou.  He couldn't exactly leave his dog out here, and Nigou had a real knack for making intelligent decisions.

 

                Five minutes later, Tetsuya found himself on the doorstep of a familiar apartment.  Now that he thought about it, Kagami _did_ live in this area.  He should’ve thought of this sooner.  Beside him, Nigou wagged his tail and barked rather proudly.

 

                He rang the doorbell twice, shaking snow from his hair as he heard movement inside.

 

                “Who the heck is out in this-” The door opened and Kagami’s jaw went slack.

 

                Tetsuya bowed a little in greeting.  “Hello, Kagami-kun.  I apologize for not calling you first.  May I come in?”

 

                “What-!”  Kagami spluttered for a moment and then snapped out of it before making a long arm and hauling Tetsuya inside, leaving the door open only long enough for Nigou to enter as well before he slammed it shut.

 

“What the _hell_ do you think you’re doing in this weather?!”  Kagami ranted as he sprinted out of sight before hurrying back with an armful of towels.  Tetsuya smothered a fond smile.  “Stop standing there and get out of those wet clothes before you freeze to death!

 

“And you stay away from me or I'm kicking you right back out!”  Kagami added when Nigou nosed closer to him with happy tail-wagging that Tetsuya mentally translated to _‘I missed you!’_.  He couldn't understand why Kagami had such an aversion to Nigou.

 

“So?”  Kagami prompted impatiently as he reached for the coat in Tetsuya’s arms.  “What were you doing out there and why aren’t you wearing your- AGH!!!”

 

If Tetsuya had been anyone else, he would've burst out laughing as Kagami leapt back, tripped over the shoe rack, and crashed to the ground.  Arm-waving and shrieking aside, the fall was actually fairly graceful.

 

Tetsuya held up the bundle containing the black puppy and plastered on his best mournful expression.  “I found him abandoned in an alleyway, Kagami-kun.  I couldn't leave him there.”

 

Kagami gaped at him in horror for a long second.  “Are- Are you _shitting_ me, Kuroko?!  _Another_ _one?!_   I'm not having him here!  Put him back outside!  I already have to tolerate your evil twin from hell over there!  I'm not dealing with another one!”

 

                Tetsuya pulled up his most pathetic, puppy-dog eyes.  At his side, Nigou took his cue and did the same.  (Tetsuya made a mental note to teach this expression to the new pup as soon as possible.)  He tugged the jacket aside to reveal the stray’s furry face more clearly.  “Don’t be like that, Kagami-kun.  Isn’t he cute?”

 

                “DON’T LOOK AT ME WITH THOSE EYES!!!”

 

                Fifteen minutes later, Nigou and the newcomer were curled up in front of the heater with a bowl of dog food each while Tetsuya sat at the dining table with a cup of tea and clean, dry clothes, watching with private amusement as Kagami settled himself as far away from both dogs as physically possible.

 

                “Are you going to keep him too?”  Kagami asked in a resigned tone.

 

                Tetsuya nodded firmly as he took a sip of tea.  He’d always had a weakness for strays, especially dogs.  “He can be the team’s second mascot.”

 

                “We don’t _need_ even _one_ mascot,” Kagami grumbled as his gaze darted over to the black puppy again.  The puppy blinked back at Kagami with drowsy blue eyes.  “Figures you’d find _another_ dog with the same eyes you have.  What kind of luck is that?”

 

                It was a rhetorical question so Tetsuya said nothing, content to soak in the warmth of the house and the drink in his hands.

 

                “What type of dog is it then?”  Kagami persisted.  “Doesn't look like a husky.”

 

                Tetsuya glanced back at the black pup.  “I think it’s a Belgian sheepdog.”

 

                “A sheepdog?”  Kagami looked increasingly uneasy.  “Aren’t sheepdogs kinda big?”

 

                Tetsuya nodded.  “They can be, but adult Belgian sheepdogs only grow a little larger than Siberian huskies, so he’ll be a little bigger than Nigou when they’re both grown up.  Right now, they're both just puppies, though I think Nigou’s at least half a year older.”

 

                Kagami facepalmed.  “Oh great; something to look forward to.”

 

                Tetsuya bit back another smile.  “What do you think I should name him?”

 

                Kagami looked up with a snort and pointed at him.  “You’re Number One.”  He pointed at Nigou.  “He’s Number Two.”  He pointed at the sheepdog.  “Which means he’s Number Three, god help us all.  Call him Tetsuya Sangou and be done with it.”

 

                Tetsuya really did smile this time, though he hid it behind his teacup.  “I'm glad you've accepted him, Kagami-kun.”

 

                “I HAVEN'T!”

 

                By the heater, Sangou woofed sleepily, ears flicking as he curled up beside Nigou.  Kagami scowled at both of them, muttering dire threats under his breath.

 

                Tetsuya only leaned back, pleased with life in general.  Kagami was a big softie at heart.  Tetsuya could bring every stray in Tokyo to this apartment and he doubted his partner would follow through with any of his warnings.

 

                It was nice, Tetsuya mused, eyes drifting to the snow swirling on the other side of the window.  To know he would always have someone to depend on.

 

* * *

 

**Please leave a review on your way out.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Kuroko no Basket.

_“Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?”_

_“That depends a good deal on where you want to get to.”_

_“I don’t much care where-”_

_“Then it doesn't matter which way you go.”_

_“-so long as I get somewhere.”_

_“Oh, you’re sure to do that, if you only walk long enough.”_

_~ Alice and the Cheshire Cat, Alice in Wonderland_

 

**14\. Addition**

 

                Junpei blinks, blinks again, blinks a third time, and then turns to his right.  “Izuki.”

 

                Izuki doesn't spare him a glance, gaze also riveted on the far side of the gym where Kuroko has just entered.  “Yeah, Hyuuga?”

 

                Junpei can feel a headache coming.  “Am I seeing things or is there an extra dog following Kuroko around today?”

 

                Izuki finally pulls his eyes away and focuses on Hyuuga instead with a sympathetic but annoyingly gleeful look.  “No, Hyuuga, you're not seeing things.  It seems Kuroko’s got himself another shadow.”

 

                Junpei twitches, and then looks forward again as Kuroko approaches them.  “ _Kuroko..._ ”

 

                Kuroko – damn him – bows all polite and respectful in a way that makes Junpei feel guilty for being mad at him at all even as the first-year scoops up the newest addition and holds it forward for Junpei’s inspection.

 

                “I found him,” Kuroko starts in that quietly adamant tone of voice that tells Junpei he should just throw in the towel while he’s ahead because his kouhai’s not going to give an inch on this issue.  “Can we keep him, Captain?”

 

                And _why_ is Kuroko asking him that?  Honestly, it makes Junpei feel like the idiot’s older brother or father or something.  He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, almost knocking his glasses askew in the process.

 

                “Kuroko, we already have Nigou,” Junpei begins as patiently as he can.  It doesn't help that he can see Kagami out of the corner of his eye.  The moron’s dog phobia has him hovering skittishly in one corner of the gym, looking torn between running away and knocking himself out to save himself the misery or being in the company of two dogs.

 

                “But he’s cute,” Kuroko insists as if that’s all that matters.  Junpei absently wonders how Kuroko can continue looking so impassive while wearing those thrice-damned puppy-dog eyes.  He refuses to believe that all this is anything but a setup because both Nigou and the new puppy are giving him the same eyes as Kuroko.  And where the hell did Kuroko manage to find yet _another_ stray with the same eyes as him?

 

                “Shut up!”  Junpei snaps at Izuki who is snickering under his breath even as he coos – _coos!_ – over the black dog in Kuroko’s arms.  “Kuroko, don’t you think it would be better to take him to an animal shelter?  That thing looks like a sheepdog of some sort, and those need lots of exercise.”

 

                It’s a weak excuse at best because huskies need a lot of exercise as well, and Nigou’s doing just fine.  Kuroko doesn't even bother arguing with him; the first-year just gives him a pointed look.

 

                Junpei heaves another sigh and glances around for assistance.  If Riko sees the dog, there would definitely be no getting rid of it.  “Look, Kuroko, maybe-”

 

                “Hey, what’s that?”

 

                Junpei promptly finds himself unceremoniously shoved aside as the rest of the team – bar Kagami and Riko – barges into the gym and swarms Kuroko, every single one of them exclaiming excitedly over the sheepdog, who woofs happily and wags its tail and gives out licks all around.  In Junpei’s opinion, the damn thing has more attitude than Nigou because he could swear that it shoots him a smug look between all the hands petting its fur and scratching behind its ears.

 

                “Hey, this one has the same eyes as Kuroko too!”  Tsuchida remarks with far too much interest.

 

                “Have you named him yet, Kuroko?”  Koganei pipes up eagerly.  “We can call him Tetsuya Sangou!”

 

                Kuroko bobs his head.  “Yes, Kagami and I decided on that two days ago.”

 

                Junpei is itching to either wring someone’s neck or lambaste them all with a million laps.

 

“DON’T NAME HIM!”  He bellows, but of course, he’s completely ignored.  No respect for the captain these days, shitty brats.

 

“What’s going on?”

 

Oh no, it’s Riko.

 

“Why aren’t all of you practicing?”  Riko demands as she strides into the gym, a telltale glint in her eyes that says she’s about to assign a seriously terrifying amount of practice sets.

 

And then she stops, eyes glued on the black puppy in Kuroko’s arms as the others part to the side for her, and Junpei facepalms as he resigns himself to the inevitable.

 

“YOU’RE SO _CUUUTE_!!”

 

Izuki claps Junpei on the shoulder with an unrepentant grin on his face.  “Guess we’re keeping him.”

 

As Riko squeals and fusses over the damn dog, Junpei eyes the far wall of the gym and wonders if it’s worth the energy to walk over there and bash his head in.  And then he sighs once more, this time in defeat, and wanders over to pet the sheepdog instead because at least that won’t give him brain damage.

 

Then again, hanging around these idiots can’t possibly be doing any favours for his IQ.

 

As he crouches down and grudgingly welcomes their newest team member, Tetsuya Sangou peers back at him with a self-satisfied doggy smile.

 

Junpei scowls and spitefully threatens to dump the dog into an animal shelter when the team’s back is turned.  In his head of course, because Riko is kneeling right next to him and he doesn't want to get beheaded or something.

 

And then, in his periphery vision, he catches sight of the faintest hint of a genuine smile on Kuroko’s face.

 

Junpei grimaces and feels the last of his reservations crumble.

 

“You better train him well!” He barks at Kuroko just to convince himself that he isn’t going soft.  “I don’t want him making a mess anywhere!”

 

Kuroko’s smile widens just the tiniest bit.  “Yes, Captain.”

 

Junpei obstinately denies that the hassle of taking care of yet another dog is more than worth that one expression.

 

**15\. Old and New**

 

                When Tetsuya steps out of Maji Burger, vanilla milkshake in hand, he is surprised to find Himuro Tatsuya leaning against a bicycle rack opposite the restaurant and staring up at the darkening sky.  Only a few hours ago, right after practice, the shooting guard had appeared at Seirin and whisked Kagami away for some ‘brother bonding’ for old time’s sake.

 

                Needless to say, Tetsuya doesn't really understand why Himuro is here, and alone at that.

 

                “Hey there,” Himuro calls out now, apparently having caught sight of Tetsuya.  The shooting guard pushes off the bike rack and approaches him with a small but affable smile.  “I don’t think we’ve ever actually been properly introduced.  I’m Himuro Tatsuya.  Nice to properly meet you.”

 

                Tetsuya isn’t so surprised that he forgets his manners.  He readily ducks his head in a shallow bow, features blanking to his default deadpan expression.  “I’m Kuroko Tetsuya.  It’s nice to meet you too.  Is there anything I can help you with, Himuro-san?”

 

                Himuro waves a hand in the air.  “Nothing in particular.  I just thought it was about time you and I got to know each other.”

                The shooting guard’s visible eye narrows just a little.  “Taiga’s the sort of idiot who forgets anything unrelated to basketball and food, after all.  He hasn’t told me much about you, and I'm guessing vice versa.”

 

                Tetsuya is far from stupid so he instantly picks up several things from Himuro’s seemingly inane statements.

 

                One, Himuro is definitely not here just to say hi.  As Kagami’s older brother figure, the shooting guard looks like he’s here to interrogate Tetsuya.  Subtly.

 

Two, Himuro seems to want to know what Tetsuya thinks and knows about him in return.

 

And three...

 

                Tetsuya studies Himuro for a long moment, and for some reason, he sees a little of himself staring back.

 

                Of course, he doesn't say any of this out loud.  Better to keep his observations to himself.

 

                He stalls on that particular thought, and he recalls Kagami’s words: _“Tatsuya looks like the serious type, but he sometimes spares no tricks to achieve his goals as well!”_

 

                Hm.  Perhaps he and Himuro are more alike than Tetsuya first realizes.  He likes to think that he is a relatively straightforward person, but at the same time, he can admit to himself that he can also be somewhat manipulative if the situation really calls for it.

 

After all, the one good thing about being as invisible as Tetsuya is even off the court is the fact that people tend to talk around him, revealing things they normally wouldn't say in front of a classmate or stranger.

 

For example, Tetsuya knows that the boy with the bad haircut sitting two rows over from him in class has a tendency to shoplift at some of the local drugstores with one or two of his friends.  He also knows that the girl five rows over who typically sports twin braids and a sweet smile in public actually sells drugs in an out-of-the-way alcove of a small arcade two blocks down with her gaggle of tittering friends almost every weekend.  He even knows that the homeroom teacher of Class 2-B – Coach, Hyuuga-senpai, and Kiyoshi-senpai’s class – has an unhealthy interest in young girls, and while Aida-kantoku hates the fact that her figure isn’t as... curvaceous as other females around her age (especially Momoi), Tetsuya can’t help being relieved about it because it means that the teacher never looks twice at her, especially since Hyuuga-senpai and Kiyoshi-senpai are almost always with her.

 

(Still, this is one thing Tetsuya won’t be keeping quiet about for much longer.  He has kept an eye on the teacher since he discovered the man removing a camcorder from the girls’ changing rooms when Tetsuya was coincidentally walking past.  The teacher evidently didn't notice him –even when he was standing a mere _eight feet from the door_ – and Tetsuya saw no need to enlighten the pedophile.  But over the months, Tetsuya has noticed that the teacher is sloppy with his handling of his recordings, leaving them in his desk in the staffroom, tucked away in the back of the bottom right drawer under lock and key.  The only thing left to do now is for Tetsuya to slip in after school one day when the man is out, pick the lock, retrieve the fingerprint-covered cassettes and much-used camcorder, and deposit them at the nearest police station.  The teacher may not look at Riko but Tetsuya still doesn't want the pedophile anywhere near his coach, or the other girls for that matter.)

 

Tetsuya has a little blackmail on just about everybody in his year, quite a bit on various upperclassmen as well, and obviously even some on the staff.  Of course, the polite thing to do would be to walk away when his schoolmates start whispering to their friends or the teachers start looking shifty-eyed, and the right thing to do would probably be to tell a trustworthy adult about the more serious information he overhears, but the tiny, pettiest part of him resents the adults around him for automatically disliking him because _they_ can’t see him and always assume that it is Tetsuya’s fault.  He doesn't trust any of them enough to bring them anything of importance.

 

And the slightly larger, clinically calculating part of him urges him to hoard everything he hears.  After all, one never knows when a decent piece of blackmail would be needed.  Tetsuya isn’t like Akashi – he won’t threaten people unless it’s absolutely necessary, and it almost never is, contrary to what Akashi thinks – but sometimes, he wishes he could be a bit more like Kagami, who can’t lie to save his life.  Guileless.

 

Still, with influences like his intimidating former captain, a cutthroat business tycoon like his father, and a ruthless lawyer like his mother, it isn’t as if Tetsuya knows how to be anything else.

 

So in this, in the way that Tetsuya doesn't but _can_ use quite a number of underhanded tricks to get what he wants, he is exactly like Himuro.

 

Tetsuya mentally snorts.  How fitting that Himuro used to be Kagami’s unofficial partner, and now Tetsuya has filled that role, much like Aomine and Kagami.

 

“Not much outside of basketball,” Tetsuya says now.  In wordless agreement, they have started walking down the street in the fading light of the sunset.

 

Himuro smiles again, calm and composed.  “Thought so.  He hasn’t even told me that much about you, just that you're great at passing, but I saw that in our match.”

 

He falls silent as they cross the street and doesn't speak until they reach another corner.  Tetsuya doesn't mind; he has patience in spades and a vanilla milkshake to keep him occupied.

 

“You work well with Taiga,” Himuro comments eventually.  “Is he a good replacement for your old partner?”

 

It takes all of Tetsuya’s willpower to remain pokerfaced but he manages it.  On the inside, his gut tightens, his heart freezes, and for a single, blinding moment, he feels like lashing out at the shooting guard walking beside him.

 

But Tetsuya is nothing if not self-controlled; impulsive hasn’t entered his dictionary in over a decade, if ever.  Instead, he silently notes the fact that Himuro can be just as straightforward and blunt as Tetsuya himself before replying evenly, “He is not a replacement.  Aomine-kun is Aomine-kun, and Kagami-kun is Kagami-kun.  They are similar but they are not the same.  One cannot replace the other.  I would thank you not to imply such a thing.”

 

He can sense Himuro scrutinizing him out of the corner of his eye, and he doesn't miss the brief flash of approval and relief that crosses the shooting guard’s face.

 

Tetsuya relaxes minutely.  Kagami is lucky to have such a protective brother figure.

 

“Sorry about that,” Himuro acknowledges, inclining his head apologetically.  “It’s just that Taiga’s a real softy at heart.  That moron lost to me on purpose back when we were still in the States because I said I wouldn't be his big brother anymore if he won.”

 

Tetsuya flicks a glance at the ring hanging around Himuro’s neck.  Kagami has told him about the significance of the two trinkets.

 

“The big brother doesn't always have to be stronger than the little brother,” He remarks quietly, gaze focused straight ahead.  “The little brother will eventually grow up to stand on his own but that doesn't mean the older brother can simply be thrown away.”

 

Tetsuya cranes his head to the side and allows the slightest shadow of steely reproach to surface on his face.  “I don’t think you should have said what you said to Kagami-kun, Himuro-san, even if your intentions were to motivate him to play his very best.”

 

Himuro looks... thrown, almost openly stunned even as they continue walking.  Tetsuya turns away again, and he thinks of old friendships and nearly-severed bonds, and he wonders why some people find it so very easy to toss such important things away.

 

Tetsuya has always treasured them.  Physically, he was the first of the Generation of Miracles to leave, but truth be told, the rest of his old team had already departed long before Tetsuya made the decision to disappear as well.

 

“...I thought you said Taiga didn't tell you anything about me outside of basketball,” Himuro accuses at last, but there is no heat behind his words.

 

“I said ‘not much’,” Tetsuya corrects mildly.

 

Himuro’s mouth quirks a little with reluctant amusement.  “You're... a little different than what I had expected.”

 

Tetsuya gives him a bland stare.  “You had expectations?”

 

Himuro shrugs, a graceful motion that undoubtedly stems from years of athletic training.  “Taiga may not have said much but I think you've forgotten who one of my teammates is.”

 

Tetsuya blinks.  Ah.  Well, he hasn’t _forgotten_ , per se, but that particular fact hasn’t consciously occurred to him until now.  “...Murasakibara-kun talks about me?”

 

This comes as something of a surprise.  Murasakibara is more likely to talk about sweets than anything else, and amongst the Generation of Miracles, it is Akashi that the center likes most.

 

“Oh yeah,” Himuro nods.  “Not a lot – that guy is obsessed with snacks first and foremost – but he has mentioned you a couple of times.  You two don’t get along on the court, I hear.  He says you’re too stubborn.”

 

Tetsuya inwardly rolls his eyes.  Outwardly, he counters, “Murasakibara-kun is just as stubborn.”

 

This earns him a thoughtful look from Himuro.

 

“Nah, I don’t think so,” The shooting guard decides, still eyeing Tetsuya speculatively, but he doesn't expand on it.  “You know, Atsushi missed an entire two days of school two weeks ago, and he doesn't usually skip.  And when he came back...”

 

Himuro looks half-bemused, half-pleased.  He shakes his head.  “Well, he retracted his resignation from the team in a _very_ roundabout way.  And he apologized.  That was a first.”

 

The shooting guard glances over at Tetsuya once more.  “I found a used train ticket from Tokyo in his bag when I was filling it with snacks.  You didn't happen to have anything to do with Atsushi’s sudden reconsideration, did you?”

 

Tetsuya returns Himuro’s inquisitive gaze with a placid one of his own.  He doesn't give any of his astonishment away.  “I bumped into Murasakibara-kun and we played a single round of one-on-one.  And then I bought him ice-cream and a bag of candy.  We didn't spend much time together.”

 

Himuro just gives him a _look_ , like he knows there’s more to it than that, but he doesn't say anything else.  Neither of them talks again until they reach an intersection and both instinctively slow to a stop.

 

“Well, I turn off here,” Himuro jabs a thumb down the street stretching towards the left.  “I’m staying with Taiga for the night before I take a train back home in the morning.”

 

Tetsuya nods and bobs his head in another polite bow.  “Then goodnight, Himuro-san.  Have a safe trip back to Akita tomorrow.”

 

He straightens, and then almost takes a step back when a friendly hand claps him on the shoulder.  He peers upward, frowning imperceptibly in question.

 

Himuro’s visible eye has sharpened intently, and he looks like he’s searching for something as he frowns down at Tetsuya.

 

“They call you a shadow, don’t they?”  The shooting guard mutters at last, but it rings rhetorically in Tetsuya’s ears so he doesn't say anything in response.

 

“You make invisible passes and all,” Himuro muses on to himself.  “And you support Taiga’s crazy plays perfectly.  But I don’t get how anyone can look at you and call you a mere shadow.”

 

Tetsuya’s frown increases a touch.  He has no idea what the older teen is getting at; Tetsuya has always been a shadow.  He is most content in the shadows, even now when he is slowly creating his own playing style.

 

But Himuro just waves without clarifying again, already turning away.  “All those good manners – I hope you lose some of them and give them to Taiga instead; he needs them.  See you around, Kuroko-kun.  Good luck in the rest of the Winter Cup.”

 

Tetsuya watches him go until the shooting guard is out of sight.  He makes up his mind.

 

Himuro Tatsuya is a very strange person.

 

**16\. Discovery**

 

                On hindsight, Shun really should’ve been more careful, but he is already running late since he was halfway down the street before he remembered that he had forgotten to turn off the stove and has had to make a trip back.  His parents would kill him if he ends up burning the house down, especially in the middle of winter.

 

                And then he has the misfortune of bumping into Hyuuga, Riko, Kiyoshi, and Mitobe, who were all on their way over to his house to see if he wants to hang out with them for the day.  On any other day, at any other time, Shun would've agreed in a heartbeat, but today is a Sunday, and the minute hand on his watch is pointing closer and closer to ten, which means that Shun is going to be _really_ late.

 

                He has promised to meet Kuroko in front of the hospital at nine-thirty, after all.

 

                So he simply tells them that he has something else planned for the morning before dashing away, speeding on without taking the precaution to make sure that his friends _won’t follow him_.

 

                Because of course they would; they're nosy – he means that in as nice a way as possible – and Shun has been declining outings with them for several consecutive Sunday mornings now.

 

                They're bound to be curious.

 

                Even worse, another block down and a sharp corner later, Shun nearly crashes headlong into Kagami, who, being the basketball idiot he is, is on his way to the Coach’s house to see if he can beg Riko’s old man to unlock the Aida sports complex so that Kagami can use the indoor gym.

 

                Shun barely stays still long enough to shout an apology before sprinting onwards, but if he had just thought about it a little longer, he would've realized that Hyuuga and the others would undoubtedly drag Kagami along as well.

 

                So by the time Shun reaches the hospital, he is, unbeknownst to him, followed by no less than half the team, all wanting to know where he is off to in such a hurry.

 

                He doesn't notice them though as he rushes up to Kuroko, who is standing as patient and stoic as ever in front of the main entrance and doesn't look like he minds at all that the time that he could've spent by his grandmother’s side has been wasted waiting for Shun.

 

                “Sorry I’m late!”  Shun pants out, stomping the snow off his boots as he shoots Kuroko an apologetic look.  “I forgot to turn off the stove at home.”

 

                Kuroko just shakes his head.  “It’s okay, Senpai.  Thank you for coming.”

 

                He makes to turn but halts again a few steps later.  Shun glances down at his kouhai.  “Something wrong?”

 

                Kuroko just peers up at him for a long unblinking moment before calmly pointing behind him at some nicely-cut shrubbery.

 

                That seems to have grown hair.

 

                Shun stares for all of half a second before slapping himself on the forehead and then storming over to where half the basketball team is hiding.

 

                “What are you doing here?”  He hisses, a spark of genuine anger welling up in his chest.  He’s usually fairly laidback about things in general but this is _not good_.  Kuroko has never actually told him not to tell anyone else about their hospital visits but Shun figures that if his kouhai wants other people to know, then the first-year would tell them himself.  Kuroko does things at his own pace, and Shun would hate it if the younger teen thinks that he has broken their unspoken agreement.

 

                Kiyoshi is the first to stand, hands held up in a sheepish placating gesture as the others rise as well.  “Sorry, Izuki.  You were rushing around in such a hurry that we got curious.  And you always seem to be busy on Sunday mornings for the past several weeks so we were wondering if something was wrong.”

 

                Shun sighs and scrubs a frustrated hand over his face before whirling around and pressing his hands together in contrite apology.  “I’m sorry, Kuroko, I didn't mean to bring them with me.  I just bumped into them along the way and I guess they followed me.”

 

                This last bit was accompanied by a disgruntled look thrown the small group’s way, who all shuffle guiltily in place, even Kagami.

 

                Kuroko, having followed Shun, just shrugs dismissively, features blank enough to hide any annoyance he might be feeling.

 

                “It’s okay,” Kuroko assures before looking at the others, and if Shun hasn’t known Kuroko for as long as he has, he would've missed the sliver of nervousness in the younger teen’s demeanour.  “It isn’t a secret or anything.  Izuki-senpai has been nice enough to visit my sick grandmother with me every Sunday after he found out, much like you have.  That’s what we’re doing here now.”

 

                A stilted silence follows.  Riko’s eyes have gone wide.  Kiyoshi’s features soften compassionately.  Mitobe looks quietly sympathetic while Hyuuga looks both uncomfortable and a little grim.  Kagami just stiffens as if Kuroko’s grandmother being sick is some sort of personal offense that he wants to defeat like he does everything else – bash it in the face as many times as it takes to overcome it.

 

                Too bad this is one thing Kagami’s head-on approach isn’t going to work on.  Even putting aside the fact that terminal cancer is about as permanent as an illness can get, Kasumi-baa-san is already in her eighties.

 

                “Oh,” Riko flushes a little, hands fluttering helplessly in front of her as if part of her wants to step forward and wrap Kuroko in a hug.  “I’m sorry, Kuroko-kun.  We didn't mean to intrude.”

 

                Kuroko inclines his head, the faintest of smiles gracing his features.  “I know.”  He pauses, and then extends almost warily, “Would you like to meet her?”

 

                Surprise lights everyone’s faces but Shun just watches on, approval replacing his anger when he realizes that Kuroko isn’t pushing any of them away with his typical well-mannered words.

 

                Five minutes later, they are all gathered in Kuroko’s grandma’s hospital room, the pristine white surroundings looking so much livelier with seven teenagers gathered inside.

 

                Shun is relieved to find that this is one of Kasumi-baa-san’s good days – that one time he came when the old woman was looking as if a strong gust of wind would kill her and the heart monitor started beeping erratically in the middle of his visit just about gave him a heart attack; he has no idea how Kuroko managed to stay perfectly composed as the doctors hurtled in and shoved them out.

 

                “Oh, Tetsu-chan brought more of his friends to visit!”  Kasumi-baa-san exclaims brightly.  “Now don’t introduce yourselves; I must try to guess.”

 

                Out of the corner of his eye, Shun can see the others exchanging subtly astonished looks with each other.  He stifles a laugh.  Much like him, none of them can really believe that someone related to Kuroko can be so open with her emotions.

 

                Kasumi-baa-san starts from the left and doesn't miss a single one.

 

                “You must be the coach, of course,” The old woman gestures at Riko first, beaming warmly at the second-year.  “Aida-chan, obviously.  Tetsu-chan has told me all about your effective training methods.  He says you’re tough on them but very good at your job.  He neglected to mention how pretty you are though.”

 

                Riko all but lights up, surprised and pleased at the same time as her cheeks tinge pink and she stammers out somewhat bashfully, “I- Thank you, Kuroko-san.  I had no idea, Kuroko-kun talked about us.”

 

                Kasumi-baa-san just waves a frail hand in the air.  “Just Kasumi-baa-san or Obaa-san, dear.  And Tetsu-chan has spoken quite a bit about his teammates.”

 

                She turns to Hyuuga next, still smiling.  “You must be Hyuuga-kun then, the captain.  Tetsu-chan says you’re the best captain anyone could ask for.”

 

                Hyuuga coughs and reddens, darting a quick glance at Kuroko who is staring fixedly at the far wall as if it is the most interesting thing he has ever seen.  Shun would bet his eyes that had Kuroko been anyone else, he would've turned beet red by now.

 

                “And you’re Kiyoshi-kun of course,” Kasumi-baa-san continues, turning her gaze onto the amicable center.  “Tetsu-chan thinks of you as his older brother.  Actually, he thinks of all his senpai as older sibling figures.”

 

                Kiyoshi looks delighted as he glances at Kuroko before focusing on the old woman again.  “Really?  That’s a relief; I see him as my little brother too.”

 

                Shun bites back a grin as Kuroko finally shifts, features still impassive but shoulders tense with embarrassment.  “Obaa-san, _please_.”

 

                Kasumi-baa-san, in Shun’s humble opinion, is awesome because she just pats Kuroko on the hand, a mischievous glint entering her eyes as she chides, “Now, Tetsu-chan, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.  This is the first time I have ever met any of your friends; second, I suppose, if you count Izuki-kun as the first.”

 

                This temporarily halts Shun’s train of thought as he mentally frowns at this implication.  What of Kuroko’s old teammates?  Friends from kindergarten or elementary school or middle school?  Surely middle school at least?  That is where Kuroko met the other Generation of Miracles after all.

 

                Kasumi-baa-san is already turning back to the next in line, smiling once again at Mitobe this time.  “And you’re Mitobe-kun, the one who can talk without words.  Tetsu-chan says you’re the calmest to be around.”

 

                Mitobe inclines his head politely, a returning smile surfacing on his features.  Shun doesn't miss the soft look in the other teen’s eyes when the center looks briefly over at Kuroko as well.

 

                “And I definitely know you!” Kasumi-baa-san turns at last to Kagami who is hovering closest to the door, looking adorably awkward as he fumbles a clumsy but well-meaning bow in the old woman’s direction.

 

                Kasumi-baa-san just chuckles, amusement glowing in her eyes as she studies the tall first-year.  “You’re Kagami-kun of course; Tetsu-chan’s best friend.  He’s told me enough about you for me to write a book if I wished, everything from your basketball plays to your healthy appetite to your secret liking for Nigou-chan and Sangou-chan.”

 

                Kagami looks like a ripe tomato by now but the last bit snaps him out of it, at least a little.  “What?!  I don’t like those little pests at all!  Oi, Kuroko!  What have you been telling your grandma about me?!”

 

                Kuroko looks pathetically grateful for a split second as he seizes this opening like a lifeline.  “All the embarrassing things you do, Kagami-kun.  I have to entertain her when I come to visit, and there’s no one who provides more comedy on a daily basis than you.”

 

                Kagami looks mortally offended and probably would've leapt at his partner and put him in a chokehold if they aren’t in front of Kuroko’s grandmother at the moment.  As it is, he only scowls instead, bristling like a cat as his eyes shoot daggers and promises later retribution.

 

                Kuroko just blinks back, utterly unflappable as always.

 

                From the bed, Kasumi-baa-san laughs and the last of the tension dispels.  Shun finally grins and slips into the chair he always sits in when he comes to visit as the others scramble for chairs either in the room or out in the hallway.

 

                And for the next two hours, the room is filled with chatter and laughter and banter, interspersed with Kasumi-baa-san’s stories of when Kuroko was five and brought home a nest of ducklings and a mother duck with a broken wing, or another time when Kuroko was seven and accidentally stopped a one-man burglary of a jewelry store by tripping the thief up since the criminal certainly didn't notice Kuroko.

 

                But throughout it all, Shun can’t help noticing the trace of sadness shadowing Kuroko’s features as the younger teen sits quietly in his chair without really saying anything, watching his grandmother with wistful eyes.  Shun isn’t the only one to notice if the others’ occasional worried glances are anything to go by but none of them say anything in the patient’s presence.

 

                By the time they leave, Kasumi-baa-san is tired but heartbreakingly happy as she waves goodbye with a fond do-come-again.

 

                Outside, they barely make it onto the sidewalk before Kuroko rounds on them and bows deep and low, and when he straightens, he looks depressingly thankful.

 

                “Is it possible for all of you to come again sometime?”  Kuroko enquires almost hesitantly.  “She-” Uncharacteristically, he stumbles over his words before forging on.  “The doctor told me a few days ago that she doesn't have very much time left.  You made her very happy today.  So I was wondering, if you have time, maybe you would be willing to-”

 

                Kuroko shuts up.  Shun can’t blame him.  The first-year doesn't seem the type to have experienced a lot of genuine comfort hugs and Riko has suddenly strode forward and thrown her arms around the teen.

 

                Kuroko doesn't say anything.  He doesn't return the hug either.  His arms hang limply at his side, but unlike with Momoi, he doesn't ask – in that deadpan way of his – for Riko to get off of him.

 

                When Riko finally pulls back, she doesn’t promise that they’ll visit (which Shun knows is a given; Riko will probably set aside her Sunday mornings from now until Kasumi-baa-san passes away just for hospital visits).

 

                Instead, she looks Kuroko straight in the eye, direct and serious, and asks, “Kuroko-kun, where are your parents?”

 

                There’s a deafening silence.  Even Shun hasn’t pushed that far but he knows why Riko has asked.

 

Kasumi-baa-san has never once even mentioned Kuroko’s mother or father, none of them have ever seen either parent at a basketball game, and Kuroko himself never says things like ‘my dad had to drive me to school today or I would've been late’ or ‘my mom made me clean my room before I could leave the house today’ or even ‘my parents grounded me for staying out after curfew’.

 

                And in all the times that Shun has visited prior to today, Kuroko’s parents have never made an appearance.

 

                “They’re busy,” Kuroko says, voice completely void of emotion.  “With work.”

 

                None of them really buy that bullshit answer even if it _is_ true but they don’t call Kuroko out on it either.  As always, Shun feels a rush of anger when he allows himself to think about his kouhai’s non-existent parents.  Kiyoshi is no longer smiling.  Hyuuga’s eyes have darkened almost dangerously.  Mitobe is outright frowning.  And Kagami looks like he wants to punch something, preferably Kuroko’s parents’ faces.

 

                Riko stares at Kuroko some more but doesn't push any further, backing off for now.  She won’t let it go just like that though; she isn’t the type to let things go without confronting the issue, but for now, she allows Kuroko to escape since he is clearly not ready to tell them.

 

                “Alright then!”  The coach announces instead, holding up one finger as she glares at all of them as if daring them to object.  “From now on, Sunday mornings are for visiting Kasumi-baa-san.  We’ll tell Koganei-kun and Tsuchida-kun, and the other first-years too.  _No skiving_.”

 

                Nobody intends to, that much is clear, and Shun has been visiting for weeks now but he nods along with the others.

 

                “Let’s go get some lunch then,” Kiyoshi suggests next, and Shun watches thoughtfully as their resident Uncrowned King casually meanders over and slings a friendly arm around Kuroko’s shoulders, a gesture that looks more like a hug than anything else.  “I’m getting hungry.”

 

                “Oh I’m starving!”  Kagami declares, looking fairly relieved that the emotional stuff is over and done with, but Shun surreptitiously rolls his eyes when the power forward instinctively falls into step on Kuroko’s other side, crowding just a little closer than usual.

 

                Kagami is a big softy at heart and _everyone_ knows it.

 

                As they make their way down the street, arguing over which restaurant to go to, Shun catches the way Kuroko ducks his head a little and hides his eyes for a moment behind his bangs before looking back up with a suspicious shine to his normally empty gaze.

 

                Shun thinks he should’ve let the others follow him to the hospital ages ago.  Still, at least it's finally happened.

 

**Please leave a review on your way out.**


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

_“Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?”_

_“That depends a good deal on where you want to get to.”_

_“I don’t much care where-”_

_“Then it doesn't matter which way you go.”_

_“-so long as I get somewhere.”_

_“Oh, you’re sure to do that, if you only walk long enough.”_

_~ Alice and the Cheshire Cat, Alice in Wonderland_

 

* * *

 

**17\. Cops and Robbers, a Pervert and a Fox**

 

                Tetsuya bided his time.  He was nothing if not patient.

 

                “Oi, Kuroko, you coming?”  Kagami looked impatient again, as he always was when it came to food.  And basketball.  “You’re slow!  The team’s waiting outside; we’re going to Maji Burger for dinner.”

 

                Tetsuya shook his head minutely, face blank as he gestured for his partner to go on ahead.  “I have an appointment with one of the teachers about an assignment.  Please tell the team to go without me.  I will see you tomorrow, Kagami-kun.”

                Kagami frowned, looking slightly disgruntled at this news, and it almost made Tetsuya smile, but the taller basketball player nodded in acquiescence and headed out the door with a wave.  “See ya tomorrow then.”

 

Tetsuya waited until the muffled sounds of his team’s voices faded into the distance.  It was a good thing that Kagami wasn't particularly perceptive when it came to anything outside of basketball so Tetsuya hadn't needed to lie.  Someone more observant might enquire as to why he had said ‘one of _the_ teachers’ instead of ‘one of _my_ teachers’, or the fact that Tetsuya hadn't specified which assignment he needed to see a teacher about.  The other first-years had all the same homework he did, and barring Kagami, they would probably have been curious or at least offered to help if they had assumed that Tetsuya didn't understand something.

 

Reopening his locker door, Tetsuya stashed his bags back inside.  Better not to carry around anything unnecessary when he was about to go sneaking around the school.  The only thing he did take was a small duffel bag.  He shucked his team jacket as well, and crammed a cap on his head, making sure his hair was hidden away; on the very, _very_ small chance that he was spotted, he didn't want anyone connecting him back to Kuroko Tetsuya of the Seirin Basketball Team.

 

Then again, they probably wouldn't even recognize him as a student of Seirin in the first place.

 

Checking himself over in one of the mirrors on the wall, Tetsuya mentally nodded his approval before slipping out of the changing room and heading towards the girls’ locker room.

 

He’d been monitoring his senpai’s homeroom teacher’s daily routine for several months now, and he knew that the pervert wouldn't make his way down to the girls’ changing room until six-thirty, give or take.  It was a few minutes before six right now so Tetsuya would give himself until six-twenty to set everything up before he scarpered.

 

Reaching the girls’ locker room, he pulled on a pair of gloves, tried the doorknob, found it locked (as he had expected since the girls’ Tennis Club normally let out at five, and then the janitor would come to clean and lock up), and retrieved his lock-picking tools from his bag.

 

What could he say?  He was an only child who had spent most of his childhood alone.  He had gotten curious about some things.

 

Twenty seconds later, Tetsuya had the door open wide enough for him to duck inside, and without further ado, he tugged open his duffel bag and got to work.

 

All in all, except for the lack of urinals and a few extra stalls in their place, the girls’ changing room wasn't all that different from the boys’ so, from his own examination of the boys’ changing room, Tetsuya had already mapped out all the places that the homeroom teacher – Aoba Jurou – could possibly place his camcorder in the room and still have a good view of semi-naked and probably fully naked girls.  Therefore, he also knew how to avoid getting caught on camera.

 

As he had thought, he found Aoba’s video camera placed in an obscure corner on top of a set of lockers, far back enough so that no one would see it unless they were looking for it but angled in a way that would give the lens a perfect view from above of the inside of at least half a dozen stalls where the girls would usually strip.

 

Tetsuya wrinkled his nose in revulsion as he evaded the camera’s line of sight.  What bad taste.  He wouldn't feel any guilt when he ultimately got this man arrested.

 

Choosing an opposite corner so that he would have a clear view of both the clock on the wall _and_ Aoba entering the locker room to retrieve his video camera, Tetsuya methodically began setting up his own camcorder.  The piece of equipment would not be able to be traced back to him even in the event of someone else finding it before he could return for it.  It was one he had found in the basement of his house, all but brand-new but bought ten years ago from a different _country_ by one of his parents and probably used only once or twice at the beginning.  Any records of the purchase would be long buried.

 

After turning the thing on, Tetsuya made his way back across the room again, skirting around the stalls and clambering onto a bench just to make sure that Aoba wouldn't even be able to accidentally catch sight of the camera.

 

Satisfied with his work, Tetsuya checked his phone.  Six-fifteen.  Early was always best in his book so it was time to scram.

 

Giving the room one more thorough scan, Tetsuya slung his duffel bag over one shoulder and left the changing room, locking the door behind him once more.  The locks on every locker room in the entire school used the same key; it was the only reason that Aoba had such an easy time getting in and out since all teachers had a set of keys assigned to them.

 

                Now that that was done, Tetsuya settled himself in the shadows of a tree about a dozen feet away.  A group of students walked by without even glancing in his direction, the janitor rounded the corner a few minutes later, pushing his cart as he headed for the boys’ locker room, and finally, Aoba Jurou slunk casually into view about five minutes after that, glancing left and right but, having gotten away with it so many times already, couldn't be bothered to do a more careful job.

 

                Tetsuya allowed a flicker of a mirthless smirk twist his lips before settling his expression back into its usual neutrality.

 

                He waited until the teacher was inside before taking off for the school’s main building.  He knew Aoba would head back to his classroom to pack up for the day before swinging by the staffroom to drop off the camcorder in his desk drawer.  Tetsuya would wait until after Aoba had left the school entirely before stealing everything in it.  He thought it was pretty stupid of Aoba for leaving most of the tapes in the _school_ but he’d also seen a wedding band on the man’s hand so he figured that Aoba didn't want his wife finding out.  Tetsuya might’ve felt a little bad for the woman if it wasn't for the fact that he was probably doing her a favour here.  What she was thinking when she married the pervert was beyond him.

 

                It took exactly thirty-six minutes of waiting patiently from the seat he had taken right across the staffroom before Aoba finally left.  Another two janitors, a bunch of teachers, and Aoba himself had walked right in front of Tetsuya during that time, and none of them had seen him.

 

                Not bad at all for a phantom.

 

                From his position though, Tetsuya could see the parking lot through the window, and as soon as he had seen Aoba driving out the school gates, he was up and moving once more.

 

                Even though there were no more teachers inside, the staffroom wasn't locked yet, most likely left open for the janitors to do their cleaning.  Tetsuya ghosted inside, falling onto his hands and knees and sticking to the protection that the desks provided even as he crawled silently towards Aoba’s.  Seirin was a fairly old school despite still being in relatively good condition, and there was every chance that there might be a surveillance camera or two situated in the room.  Tetsuya rather doubted it but it was better safe than sorry.

 

                Twelve minutes later, he had Aoba’s bottom right drawer unlocked and cleaned out, everything swept into a couple of Ziploc bags from his duffel.  Swiftly, he closed and locked it again, made sure everything looked undisturbed, and then crawled back out of the room once more without anyone the wiser.

 

                Now he had to move quickly.  Speeding back down to the girls’ changing room, he broke in again, retrieved his camcorder, reviewed the tape, and then stuffed it into a separate Ziploc bag before hurrying out again, this time to the boys’ locker room to grab his belongings, put away his cap but not his gloves, and then jogged directly out of the school and straight to the police station.

 

                Though there wasn't _too_ much of a need to get the investigation started as soon as possible, it was what Tetsuya wanted since he knew that Aoba would be panicking the minute the teacher discovered the empty drawer.  While there wasn't much Aoba could do about it, Tetsuya didn't want to give the pedophile any time to create an alibi, no matter how flimsy.

 

                If Tetsuya had his way (and he wasn't the son of an uncompromising lawyer and a merciless business tycoon for nothing), then the school would be swarming with police by morning, and Aoba fired, arrested, and carted off to prison before noon.

 

                By the time he arrived at the station, dusk had fallen and Tetsuya was shivering a little from the nipping cold.  November’s bout of early snowfall had been washed away by rain but the wind itself still carried the bite of winter and the promise of a white Christmas.

 

                There was only one officer on duty at the front desk, reading a newspaper behind the window that separated the office from the outside.  There was even a speak hole in it for people to simply walk up and ask for assistance or enquire of a lost item.

 

                Tetsuya hesitated, and then quietly removed all the evidence he had from his duffel, choosing to leave it outside on the ground before scooting back, picking up a rock, and pelting it at the window.

 

                Embarrassingly enough, the first one fell short, and Tetsuya had to throw another stone to catch the officer’s attention.

 

                The policeman jerked a little at the clink of rock on glass, putting his paper aside as he peered out into the night.  “Who’s there?”

 

                Tetsuya cautiously moved to a different spot even further away from the bags of cassette tapes and camcorder, with a clear route of escape behind him, before throwing a third rock.  The officer got to his feet, one hand dropping to the holster at his hip as he came around the desk and headed outside.  From the man’s point of view, and with both Tetsuya’s lack of presence and the cover of the night, the rocks had probably seemed like it came from out of nowhere.

 

                “Who’s there?”  The policeman asked once more, sharper this time as he kept a hand on his gun.  Tetsuya remained silent, and a few seconds later, he saw the officer’s gaze fall onto the pile of evidence on the ground.  Lingering only long enough to ensure that the man had scooped everything up with a puzzled expression, Tetsuya turned on his heel and walked away.

 

                That was his part done.  Now he had himself and his dogs to feed, and homework to complete before-

 

                “Kuroko?”

 

                Tetsuya stiffened imperceptibly before turning calmly to face the direction where the familiar voice had come from.  Kiyoshi peered down at him with open curiosity.  It figured that one of the few people who could pick him out of a crowd – or no crowd – would bump into him tonight.  “Good evening, Kiyoshi-senpai.”

 

                Kiyoshi sighed a little, looking exasperated at the rather formal greeting but forging on nonetheless.  “Hey, I didn't expect to see you again today, especially not here.  You don’t usually go this way to get home, do you?”

 

                Tetsuya shook his head, not giving anything away.  “I took the long way around.  I am heading straight home now.”

                “Oh,” Kiyoshi’s gaze flitted over Tetsuya’s head, scanning the empty street behind him with a perfunctory once-over (and undoubtedly catching sight of the lights coming from the police station half a block down) before smiling down at Tetsuya.  “Come on then; we can walk together part of the way.  Kagami said you were meeting a teacher for an assignment; how did that go?”

 

                “Fine,” Tetsuya answered blandly.  It _had_ gone fine.  _More_ than fine.

 

                Kiyoshi sweatdropped.  “Okay, well, have you eaten yet?”

 

                “No,” Tetsuya figured he should clarify this time.  “Nigou and Sangou are waiting for me at my house so I will eat with them when I get back.”

 

                This earned him an odd look from Kiyoshi so Tetsuya reviewed his reply but couldn't figure out what he had said to garner that expression.

 

                “Er, what about your mum and dad, Kuroko?”  Kiyoshi’s voice had gentled, and Tetsuya almost hated him for it in that split second.

 

                He shrugged instead, eyes fixed on the road ahead as they walked on.  “They’re at work.”

 

                A long silence followed until they reached an intersection where Tetsuya knew that Kiyoshi would have to turn off.  He almost jumped when a something soft was draped around his neck.

 

                “Family’s never just about blood, Kuroko,” Kiyoshi said, strangely sombre even as he wrapped the blue scarf he had been wearing around Tetsuya’s neck to ward off the chill.  “They help each other when times call for it, and it’s perfectly okay to ask for help without worrying about being selfish or anything stupid like that.  I hope you can understand that one day.  You don’t quite get it yet right now.”

 

                And with those cryptic words, the second-year grinned again and waved, calling out a cheery ‘see you tomorrow’ before walking off down the street, now scarf-less.

 

                Tetsuya watched him go, one hand coming up to absently tangle his fingers into the soft wool of the scarf he’d been given.  Kiyoshi was so weird sometimes, doing random things and spouting random jokes and pieces of... advice? at random times.

 

                Ah well.  Kiyoshi was Kiyoshi, and Tetsuya liked him the way he was.  Seirin just wouldn't be the same without him.

 

                Tetsuya headed home, burrowing his cold nose into the scarf.  It was very warm.

 

**~17~**

 

                In the morning, as Tetsuya had predicted, two police cars could be seen out front, the school was in an uproar as a white-faced protesting Aoba was roughly cuffed and taken into custody, and a classroom had been set aside for a few police officers to interview the schoolteachers as well as all the girls that had appeared on the tapes in addition to the man’s entire homeroom class.

 

                Seeing as Tetsuya was both male and a first-year, he didn't have much to do with the proceedings.  However, every other teacher in the school were too distracted (or maybe too distraught and alarmed that one of their own had turned out to be perving on the female population) to teach, and most of the students weren’t paying attention anyway, much more enthusiastic about the rumours of _pedophile_ and _Aoba-sensei is going to the slammer_ and even the wilder whispered gossip of _sexual abuse_ and _rape_.

 

                Needless to say, not much educating was being done that day if you didn't count all the new terminology related to pedophilia that some of the more gung-ho students were looking up just for the heck of it.  The teachers basically let them have study periods throughout the entire day since no one was allowed to leave until the police was finished with the investigation anyway.

 

                Tetsuya merely pulled out a book to read as he waited for the hours to pass, keeping an ear out just to make sure that the interrogations were going smoothly.  Apparently, the police was doing a proper job of it, and several female students had already come forward to confess that there had been times where Aoba had touched them longer than absolutely necessary but that there had been nothing _too_ bad which was why none of them had reported anything.

 

                An announcement had been made at noon as well about the mysterious person who had left the bags of evidence in front of the police station yesterday night, and that anyone who knew anything should step forward about it.

 

                Tetsuya kept his head down and his mouth shut, unseen and forgotten as always.  Coach was now safe, the pervert would be going to jail, and as far as Tetsuya was concerned, that was all that mattered.

 

                The only thing that did surprise him was when he heard two girls talking in hushed disgusted voices about the information revealed to them during each of their interviews with the officers.  Apparently, a stack of photos had been found in the man’s house after the police had conducted a search, and every girl in every class that Aoba had taught had been in that stack.

 

                Tetsuya probably would have crushed the full bottle of water he had been holding at the time if he had been strong enough.  As it was, he chose to walk away instead, swallowing his anger while keeping his features void of anything he was feeling.

 

                He had been too lenient with Aoba.  He should have planted something even more incriminating on the man.  Drugs, maybe?  He was sure he could've gotten his hands on some if he talked to that girl from his class who sold drugs for a pretty yen.  It wasn't as if Tetsuya didn't have enough money or anything.

 

                “That appointment with the teacher about an assignment yesterday went pretty well, huh?”

 

                Tetsuya stilled for a fraction of a second before turning around to watch Kiyoshi approach, a disarming smile on his face.  “Hello, Senpai.  I told you last night that it went fine.”

 

                Kiyoshi stopped a foot in front of him, cocking his head and studying Tetsuya with knowing eyes.  Tetsuya just gazed back indifferently, and after several long seconds, the second-year huffed a half-laugh, half-sigh and reached out to ruffle Tetsuya’s hair.

 

                Tetsuya inwardly twitched with irritation.  Kiyoshi was picking up Murasakibara’s habits.  At least the former didn't _pat_ him on the head like the latter did.

 

                “Kuroko,” Kiyoshi remarked with a rueful smile.  “You can be... kinda terrifying.”

 

                Tetsuya blinked, hiding his annoyance.  He had known, ever since Kiyoshi had caught him a mere half block away from the police station yesterday, that if anyone would figure out what he had done, it would be the brown-haired second-year.  “I don’t understand what you mean, Senpai.”

 

                Kiyoshi just chuckled, shaking his head as if he didn't really care whether or not Tetsuya admitted his hand in all this.  “You did it for Riko, right?  Thank you.  Neither Hyuuga nor I saw anything, and if that... man had done anything to her...”

 

                For a second, something frighteningly close to uncontrolled rage flitted across Kiyoshi’s face before it was suppressed and tucked away again.

 

                Tetsuya figured that he wasn't the only terrifying one here.

 

                “Oi, Kiyoshi!  You're up soon!  What are you even doing out here?  Riko’s still a bit shaken up and I don’t want to leave her alone for too long.”

 

                Kiyoshi was instantly all smiles again, turning to wave Hyuuga over.  Tetsuya quickly sketched a short bow.  “Good afternoon, Captain.”

 

                A slight smile tugged at Hyuuga’s lips, though it was shadowed by the lingering pissed off look today.  “Hey, Kuroko.  You first-years getting a free day today?”

 

                Tetsuya inclined his head.  “Basically, yes.  The teachers are too worried to teach.”  He paused, and then enquired, “How is Aida-kantoku?”

 

                “She’ll be fine, though if I ever see that perverted bastard out of jail again, I’ll wring his neck,” Hyuuga muttered darkly before nudging at Kiyoshi.  “Hurry up; they’ll be calling your name soon.  The questions are pretty standard.  _Don’t_ act like an idiot in front of the police, okay?”

 

                Kiyoshi rubbed the back of his head sheepishly but Tetsuya caught the look they exchanged, one that lasted only a few seconds but held the depth of an entire conversation.

 

                “Don’t worry, Hyuuga,” Kiyoshi assured before smiling one last time at Tetsuya.  “See you later, Kuroko.  I'm off to have my brain picked.”

 

                Hyuuga rolled his eyes and slapped Kiyoshi on the shoulder but chose to nod at Tetsuya instead of berating the second-year further.  “Practice is cancelled this afternoon and tomorrow morning, Kuroko, so don’t show up by accident.  Could you let the other first-years know?”

 

                Tetsuya nodded agreeably, and as the two second-years walked away, he managed to overhear Hyuuga asking, “What were you talking to Kuroko about anyway?”

 

                “Oh, this and that,” Kiyoshi replied breezily.  “Hey, you know, Kuroko’s sort of like a fox, don’t you think?”

 

“Huh?  What are you going on about?”

 

“You know, he can be really clever and sneaky, and I heard that a fox’s pelt can help them blend in with their surroundings too, just like Kuroko!”

 

“Where are you getting this stuff?  Nevermind, I don’t wanna hear it.  My brain’s hurting enough today as it is.  And when Riko’s dad hears about this, he is gonna flip...”

 

The two rounded a corner, their voices fading away, and Tetsuya relaxed minutely.  So Kiyoshi would keep quiet then.  Not that Tetsuya would've done anything to his... older brother figure if he _had_ decided to tell someone, but he preferred remaining anonymous, and it looked like Kiyoshi would respect that decision.

 

It was still odd though, Tetsuya mused to himself as he headed back to his classroom.  He had thought that if anyone ever discovered his more... underhanded side, they’d at least be a little more guarded with him.

 

Kiyoshi had been wholly unconcerned though, which was just...

 

Tetsuya shook his head.  He was surrounded by quirky people, and even just for the handful of months that he had known the second-year, Kiyoshi had always been someone who took everything in stride.

 

* * *

 

**18\. Listen**

 

                “Satsuki-chan, I wasn't aware that the team was recruiting from other schools today.”

 

                Satsuki started a little before turning to smile at Touou’s former basketball captain.  Imayoshi had retired from the team after losing against Seirin in the Winter Cup but he still came around a few times a week to make sure that everything was running smoothly.  Satsuki suspected that the third-year just missed the team.

 

                “He just showed up, Imayoshi-senpai,” Satsuki sighed, secretly anxious because these two were always a volatile mix.  “But don’t worry; I’ve called backup.”

 

                Imayoshi arched an eyebrow at her but said nothing more as they both turned their focus onto the court in front of them where a one-sided argument was taking place at the same time as a high-speed one-on-one.

 

                “-EVEN DOING HERE?!  GET OUT!  THIS AIN’T YOUR SCHOOL!!-”

 

                Satsuki sighed again at the way Wakamatsu’s face was getting redder and redder.  His shouting was doing absolutely no good since Aomine Daiki and Kagami Taiga’s furious battle with the ball was raging at its peak, each of them fully focused on one-upping the other as they dunked and shoved and raced each other up and down the length of the court, spewing insults and swearwords all the while.  In this state, Satsuki knew neither of them was paying the least bit attention on anything else, least of all the other people standing outside the court.  Not even Wakamatsu was crazy enough to physically cut in while they were like this for fear of being run over, though he had no problem with yelling at them.

 

                “When’s this backup coming?”  Imayoshi enquired with tolerant amusement.  “And what is it?  I'm thinking something along the lines of the Japanese militia.  It’d take nothing less to break those two apart.”

 

                Satsuki rolled her eyes, quirking an unbidden smile.  “No, nothing like that.  What I’ve got is much more effective.  I have faith in him.”

 

                “Thank you, Momoi-san.”

 

                This time, Satsuki jumped a foot in the air before whirling around, while Imayoshi only twitched to show his own surprise at the unexpected appearance of yet another Seirin player behind them.

 

                Satsuki beamed, tossing her clipboard aside as she lunged forward and enveloped her first love with a hug.  “Tetsu-kun!  You’re here!  I’ve missed you!”

 

                As usual, Tetsu didn't return the hug but Satsuki didn't mind; she would hug him enough for both of them.

 

                “Please let go, Momoi-san.  You’re choking me,” Tetsu said, adorably polite as ever, and Satsuki pouted but grudgingly released him.

 

                “I’m glad you got here so quickly, Tetsu-kun!”  Satsuki smiled brightly, lighting up when Tetsu glanced at her with a poker face but soft eyes.  Most people were unobservant like that so they missed all the tiny signs, and while Satsuki understood that Tetsu – for now – didn't return her feelings, she also knew that he liked her as a friend, even after... _everything_.

 

                Tetsu nodded stoically in acknowledgement before dipping his head courteously in Imayoshi’s direction.  “Good afternoon, Imayoshi-san.  Please pardon my intrusion.”

 

                Imayoshi waved a dismissive hand, close-eyed and smiling inquisitively at Tetsu.  “Don’t worry about it.  You're not half as disruptive as your teammate over there.”

 

                A near indiscernible frown passed over Tetsu’s brow, though Satsuki wasn't sure whether that was because of Kagami’s invasion into Touou or seeing Daiki.

 

Satsuki tensed, fingers tangling nervously together as her gaze flicked between Tetsu and Daiki.  Her favourite boys, torn apart, and she herself had indirectly sided with the latter.  She remembered the fist-bump they had shared after Touou had lost but...

 

Tetsu strode forward, not stopping until he was level with Wakamatsu, who stopped mid-yell and did a double-take.  Satsuki followed behind him, and Imayoshi trailed lazily after her.

 

“Good afternoon, Wakamatsu-san,” Tetsu greeted respectfully.  “I apologize for the intrusion of both myself and Kagami-kun.  I will have him out of here shortly.”

 

Satsuki bit back a giggle at Wakamatsu’s gobsmacked expression, jaw flapping for a moment before he snapped it shut and crossed his arms.  “Good luck with that.  Both those bastards might as well be deaf.”

 

Tetsu nodded once before stepping forward just as Kagami and Daiki came charging up the court again, glaring and _still_ hollering abuse at each other.

 

“You couldn't dunk properly if the basket was right in front of your face!”

 

“Says the guy who _lost_ in the first round!”

 

Tetsu took another step forward.

 

Satsuki smiled.

 

“Kagami-kun.  Aomine-kun.  Stop.”

 

This time, they heard.

 

Both boys shut up at the same time, heads jerking up to stare wide-eyed at Tetsu, and then the chain reaction began.

 

Kagami yelped as he tripped over thin air, staggering sideways and losing the ball as he crashed to the ground in a heap of limbs.  Daiki on the other hand, having been in the process of attempting to steal the ball, suddenly tilted sideways, thrown off-balance by both Tetsu’s unexpected appearance and Kagami’s abrupt washout.  Arms wind-milling ridiculously through the air, Daiki careened away, covering about half a dozen feet of court before colliding with the goal post like an out-of-control juggernaut and collapsing at its base with a loud smack.

 

And without hands guiding it, the basketball they had been playing with dribbled itself to a stop, right in front of Tetsu.

 

Satsuki choked back a spluttering laugh.  Well, even she hadn't expected that.

 

                Three heartbeats later, both boys were picking themselves up off the ground, all but straightening to attention as their eyes zeroed in on the easily overlooked blue-haired teen currently watching them with an impassive and implacable stare.

 

                “Kuroko!”  “Tetsu!”

                The entire gym was utterly silent, stunned into a stupor as they watched the two monster players shift from foot to foot like guilty five-year-olds who had just been caught raiding the cookie jar.

 

                Out of the corner of her eye, Satsuki caught sight of the coach leaning against the far wall, eyebrows raised as he surveyed the situation.

 

                “Kagami-kun,” Tetsu began in a monotone voice, and Kagami winced.  “You are supposed to be at practice.  Kantoku and Captain are not happy.”

 

                The _I’m not particularly happy either_ went unspoken but not unheard despite how flat Tetsu’s voice was.

 

                “Uh, yeah, I was just-” Kagami scratched his head and motioned weakly at his surroundings in general.  “I wanted to play a game, and Kantoku’s always sticking us with a million practice sets.”

 

                “You’re still missing practice,” Tetsu admonished quietly, and this time, even Satsuki cringed while, several feet away, Daiki glanced off to the side with a stony expression.

 

                Kagami flinched guiltily, and Satsuki knew that he also knew.  For Tetsu, practice was never just _practice_ because the last time Tetsu’s partner had started skipping them, _everything_ had unravelled, everything had broken, their bonds shattered almost beyond repair.

 

                “I-” Kagami cleared his throat.  “Yeah, I’ll come back now.  ...Sorry.  I won’t do it again.”

 

                The last bit was almost inaudible, would've been if it hadn't been for the fact that everyone else was barely breathing as their collective interest remained riveted on the exchange, but the apology was genuine, and the faintest of smiles graced Tetsu’s features for the briefest of moments, nearly making Satsuki squeal with the cuteness of it.

 

                It was enough to make Kagami relax and breathe a sigh of relief, guilt now replaced by childish sheepishness.  Of course, _that_ was wiped off a moment later as a horrified scowl scrunched his face in reaction to Tetsu’s next words.

 

                “Kantoku also told me to tell you that for every minute you miss practice, you will have to add one extra practice set to your usual training menu,” Tetsu informed his fellow teammate, blank blue eyes turning to check the clock on one of the gym walls.  “You have already missed fourteen minutes, Kagami-ku-”

 

                “WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME SOONER?!”  Kagami bellowed, thundering towards the doors like the hounds of hell were snapping at his heels, all thoughts of challenging Daiki forgotten.  “IT TAKES AT LEAST HALF AN HOUR TO GET BACK TO SCHOOL FROM HERE!!  SHE’S GONNA KILL ME!!”

 

                The power forward zoomed out of the gym, kicking up dust as he sprinted in the general direction of the nearest bus station.  Satsuki wondered if he was just going to forego the bus and run all the way back to Seirin once he figured out that the next bus wasn't going to arrive for at least another twenty minutes.

 

                “Then I’ll also be going now, Momoi-san,” Tetsu stated, and Satsuki hastily spun back to face him and glomped him again, clinging tightly to the taciturn teen.

 

                “We should meet up sometime, Tetsu-kun!”  Satsuki suggested hopefully, pulling back only far enough to meet Tetsu’s gaze while keeping a tight hold of his hand.  “Um, maybe... Dai-chan too?  And you can bring Kagami-kun along.”

 

                An awkward silence followed.  Satsuki cursed herself for opening her mouth at all.

 

                “...Kagami-kun will come so long as there’s food,” Tetsu responded at last, gaze flitting over her shoulder.  “So it would depend on Aomine-kun.”

 

                Satsuki’s eyes widened.  Tetsu was willing to give it a chance?

 

And for a fraction of a second, she felt Tetsu’s hand squeeze hers back in a reassuring gesture.

 

It had never ever just been Tetsu’s looks or basketball or surface personality that Satsuki had fallen in love with.  It had always been all the little things instead.

 

She craned her head around, shooting a ‘if you screw this up, I’ll kill you’ look at Daiki.  “Dai-chan?”

 

Aomine shrugged uncomfortably and rubbed the back of his neck, glancing pensively at Tetsu.  “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

 

Satsuki smiled and turned back to Tetsu.  “Sometime this weekend?  I’ll call you!”

 

“I’m busy Sunday morning but free any other time,” Tetsu acquiesced, and Satsuki gave him one last hug before letting him go.

 

“Okay, Tetsu-kun!”  She agreed, reluctantly stepping away.  “It’ll probably be Saturday night.  We can go for sushi or something.”

 

Tetsu almost smiled again, Satsuki was certain.  Instead though, he only nodded before turning to Wakamatsu and Imayoshi, bowing politely once more.  “I apologize for taking up your practice time.  It shouldn't happen again.”

 

Wakamatsu still looked like he wasn't quite sure how to handle Tetsu (Touou either had Sakurai who apologized for so many things that even Wakamatsu tried not to shout at him, or Aomine who could be difficult and rebellious on the best of days), but at the blue-haired teen’s bow, the Touou captain grunted noncommittally and told him gruffly, “It’s fine; just keep your teammate in line.”

 

Imayoshi just shrugged freely, still smiling away, though his eyes had slitted open to scrutinize Tetsu with undisguised intrigue.  “It’s not my team anymore, and today ended up rather interesting anyway.”

 

If Tetsu understood the implication, he didn't show it, merely nodding again before scooting around them and heading for the doors, heedless of all the eyes on him.

 

However, he did halt just inside the doorway, evidently weighing something in his mind before he turned back and looked directly at – in Satsuki’s opinion – a pathetically miserable-looking Daiki.  To anyone else (besides Tetsu), the power forward looked mildly murderous.

 

“It was nice seeing you again, Aomine-kun,” Tetsu intoned, and Daiki stiffened.  “Until Saturday.”

 

And then he was gone, slipping away with all the efficiency of a ghost.

 

Another long silence permeated the air, one in which Daiki spent staring after Tetsu and looking somewhat lost, and then his expression firmed, and while he grimaced unhappily, he turned to look at Wakamatsu and called out belligerently, “Well?  Aren’t we gonna practice?”

 

Satsuki hid a smile at Wakamatsu’s incredulous expression.  On the occasion that Daiki actually showed up for practice, a lot of nagging, shouting, and arguments would have to take place just to make the power forward go through his crunches.  Daiki had never really voluntarily trained with them.

 

Wakamatsu threw up his hands, scooped up the basketball, and began ordering everyone to do their laps.  Under his breath, after even Daiki had started running, Satsuki heard him mutter, “I give up.  This world went crazy the second we brought that bastard into the team.”

 

Satsuki just smiled fondly before going to retrieve her clipboard.

 

“Your boyfriend’s something else,” Imayoshi remarked once they were both seated on the bench.

 

Satsuki thought of Kuroko Tetsuya, plain and disregarded and absolutely _amazing._   She outright grinned, startling even Imayoshi for a split second.

 

“Yes,” Satsuki agreed wholeheartedly.  “Yes he is.”

 

* * *

 

**19\. Invitation**

 

                _“Good morning, Tet-chan!”_

 

                Tetsuya stifled a yawn as he held his phone against his ear with one hand while the other reached for his toothbrush.  Sangou was twining around his ankles like a cat that morning for some reason while Nigou was still asleep.  “Good morning, Takao-kun.  What can I do for you today?”

 

                _“Oh my_ god _, do you have to sound so formal all the time?  You sound like my grandpa!”_

 

                Tetsuya ignored this comment and busied himself with putting toothpaste on his toothbrush one-handed.  It didn't work so he put his phone on speaker before using both his hands.

 

                _“Anyway, I bet you're wondering why I'm calling!”_

 

                “No, I’m wondering when I can hang up,” Tetsuya deadpanned dutifully before sticking his toothbrush in his mouth.

 

                _“So mean!  You're just like Shin-chan sometimes!”_

 

                “Miwowima-kun wouldn' wike wu hwear wat,” Tetsuya said through a mouthful of toothpaste.

 

                _“Probably not; Aquariuses and Cancers don’t get along, yaddy-yaddy-yah.  I can hear him now.  But I'm getting off topic.  Next week!  Are you busy?”_

 

                “Depends,” Tetsuya turned on the water and rinsed out his mouth.  “If I'm not busy, what will I have to do?”

 

                _“It’s my_ birthday _next week, Tet-chan, and I'm holding a small party at my house.  I've invited my team so Shin-chan will be there, and then you’ll both have someone to talk to if I’m busy.  How about it?”_

 

                Tetsuya stared at his cell, inwardly bewildered.  He had never been... “...Do I have to bring anything?”  He paused.  “Besides a present?”  He knew that one at least.

 

                _“No, no, just yourself, and you don’t even have to bring a gift if you don’t want to.  Shin-chan will probably get me my item of the day so that doesn't even count but don’t tell him I said that ’cause then he’ll mope and ignore me for the rest of the week.  The rest of the team will most likely pool their money together to get me something but that’s it.  Don’t feel like you have to, okay Tet-chan?”_

                _As if I can feel like anything else after you said all that,_ Tetsuya thought dryly.  Out loud, he sighed, “Fine.  When and where?”

 

                Takao whooped happily on the other end of the line before rattling off his address and the date and time, and then ending the call with a hurried talk-to-you-later when a woman – probably Takao’s mother – called him for breakfast.

 

                Tetsuya squinted at the ‘Call Ended’ flashing back at him.

 

                He’d never been invited to a birthday party before.  He had once had Aomine and Momoi to celebrate all their respective birthdays with by going out for a meal together, and the other Generation of Miracles to some extent but they had usually just given small gifts before basketball practice or something, and all of that had stopped in their final year at Teikou before they had even graduated.

 

                He stuck his cell back in his pocket before going about fixing his bed hair.

 

                He’d have to find a good gift at the very least.

 

                Though that was something he could worry about _after_ the dinner with Aomine and Momoi on Saturday.

 

* * *

 

**Please leave a review on your way out.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do keep in mind that I did say these wouldn’t all be in order, though it shouldn't be a big issue since I’ve made it pretty clear when each one takes place.

* * *

_“Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?”_

_“That depends a good deal on where you want to get to.”_

_“I don’t much care where-”_

_“Then it doesn't matter which way you go.”_

_“-so long as I get somewhere.”_

_“Oh, you’re sure to do that, if you only walk long enough.”_

_~ Alice and the Cheshire Cat, Alice in Wonderland_

 

* * *

 

**20\. Truce**

 

                Ever since he had heard about the second-year from his senpai, Tetsuya had never liked Hanamiya Makoto, not before the Seirin-Kirisaki Daiichi match, not during it, and certainly not even now, two nights after they had snatched up the last ticket to the Winter Cup from Kirisaki Daiichi’s clutches. He wasn't angry at the captain anymore, but he definitely didn't like him either.

 

                That didn't mean he condoned what was happening though.

 

                Tetsuya had been unable to sleep ( _house too big, rooms too empty_ ), so he’d gone out to roam the streets as he sometimes tended to do. Nigou had already been as sleep though, and he really was still a puppy, so Tetsuya had left them behind. It wasn't as if he hadn't gone for a walk at night before he had ever met Nigou.

 

                So he’d left the house at around midnight, not bothering to only stick to the sidewalks with streetlights all the time. No one could see him to harass him; it was one of the few upsides with having such a weak presence.

 

                To him, night time was peaceful. The darkness might scare some people, or at least make them leery of wandering around in it, but for Tetsuya, it was his element. Besides, without the bustle of jostling crowds that couldn't see him and constant buzz of chatter going on around him, it didn't make him feel quite as insignificant as he would from time to time. The November air was a little chilly but Tetsuya was bundled up warmly enough.

 

                Forty minutes after he had left for his walk however, and already almost home again, he had heard a disturbance in the form of slightly raised voices and jeering laughter. Maybe it was his innate curiosity or perhaps the fact that he suspected that someone might be in trouble; either way, Tetsuya had veered off down the nearest alley to investigate.

 

                And now, here he was, standing in the shadows and frowning as he watched the confrontation several feet away. A group of twelve teenagers – third-years by the look of them – had one person cornered against the chain fence, and all of them were wearing the same school uniform.

 

                Kirisaki Daiichi’s uniform.

 

                And the one being surrounded was – pardon his language but _what the hell?_ – none other than Hanamiya Makoto.

 

                This was not a situation that Tetsuya had ever even considered himself stumbling upon, if only because _anyone_ attempting to bully Hanamiya would – Tetsuya would imagine – result in a very painful end for the bullies, both mentally and physically. Hanamiya just didn't seem the type for other people to pick on.

 

                Still, maybe that was why there were twelve of them against one, and they’d evidently caught Hanamiya off-guard if the way one of the older students had the basketball captain pinned against the fence by the collar of his shirt was anything to go by. Even from where Tetsuya was positioned, the second-year’s eyes looked murderous despite the split lip he was sporting.

 

                “-hot now, huh?” One third-year was saying. “You lost the final preliminary match so you've got no right strutting around the school like you own the place. And your teammates aren’t around to protect you now either.”

 

                Hanamiya sneered. “I don’t need them to protect me, though I might suggest hiring some bodyguards yourselves. You think I won’t ruin you after tonight?”

 

                “You won’t have a chance to,” The unofficial leader promised, slamming Hanamiya up against the fence a little higher. “After we’re done with you, you’ll be too busy crying over your broken legs to try anything. I told you, didn't I? I told you that you’d pay for destroying our reputations and getting us kicked off the basketball team just so you could take over.”

 

                Ah, so that was it. Kirisaki Daiichi’s basketball club wasn’t new like Seirin’s so Tetsuya had – peripherally – wondered why their team had consisted of only eleven players, and all of them first- or second-years and subscribing to Hanamiya’s despicable doctrine alone, especially the core group.

 

                And now that that same team – under Hanamiya’s leadership – had lost, the seniors had returned for payback.

 

                How they’d managed to draw Hanamiya out here alone was still a mystery though.

 

                “Don’t worry though,” The leading third-year tacked on cruelly as his friends cracked their knuckles. “We won’t start with your legs; those will be last. How ’bout we mess up your face first? Or an arm? Ribs are fine too; I'm not picky.”

 

                And without warning, the third-year sunk a brutal fist into Hanamiya’s gut, simultaneously loosening his grip on the captain’s collar just enough for Hanamiya to double-over wheezing. Almost immediately, he was yanked back upright, and another third-year – the closest one on the left – drove a fist into Hanamiya’s ribs. The resulting crack was audible for the entire night sky to hear.

 

                A choked off cry of pain came from Hanamiya before the captain dissolved into ragged laughter as he was once again hauled back up against the fence. And then the leader backhanded him across the face, and the laughter stuttered to a stop, but Hanamiya’s eyes remained almost feverishly bright under the dim glow of the half-clouded moon.

 

                “I'm going to destroy every single one of you,” Hanamiya’s strained smirk was bloody. “You think what I did before was bad? That was nothing.”

 

                This just earned him another blow to the stomach as the other third-years advanced, all wanting a piece of the action, and Tetsuya realized that they were serious – these students were really planning on hurting Hanamiya bad enough to put him in the hospital and probably stop him from ever playing basketball again if they had their way. Maybe even stop him from ever walking again.

 

                Tetsuya closed his eyes and grimaced. Damn.

 

                He didn't like Hanamiya. Didn't like the way he played, didn't like his personality. Heck, this could be considered karmic justice – Hanamiya had been perfectly willing to put Kiyoshi in the hospital, and now the captain’s former senpai were planning to do the same to him.

 

                And yet...

 

                What else could he do?

 

                Tetsuya would be just as bad – even worse – if he only stood by and watched this happen, not to mention Kiyoshi would get that horrible disappointed look on his face if he ever found out about Tetsuya’s inaction.

 

                Plus...

 

                Well, Tetsuya didn't like Hanamiya, but he was a basketball player himself, and he could never stay idle while a fellow basketball player was about to be deliberately injured beyond recovery.

 

                Besides, there might be some love for the game in Hanamiya after all; no matter how smart the captain was, there was no way he could've pulled off that Teardrop technique near the end of their match without the sort of dedicated practice one would only put in if the sport truly meant something to them.

 

                Tetsuya opened his eyes.

 

                Right then; what to do? He couldn't take twelve people head-on; he probably couldn't even take _one_ person head-on, but if he didn't do something soon, Hanamiya was going to get taken apart.

 

                Tetsuya could call the police but they wouldn't get here in time anyway, and the sirens would alert the third-years. Hanamiya probably wouldn't appreciate it either; Tetsuya knew enough about the captain that he was sure Hanamiya wouldn't want other people seeing him in a weakened state.

 

                That really just left Tetsuya the option of handling it himself. He glanced around as Hanamiya was struck again, and his gaze landed on some debris and rocks scattered on the ground.

 

                Well, it was worth a try.

 

                Stooping, he picked up a few small stones before circling around the ring of third-years, drawing closer before pelting the leader with a rock. It hit the student on the hand that was holding Hanamiya up, and with a startled yelp, the third-year released his victim, looking around in surprise.

 

                “What the hell was that?!”

 

                Without anyone holding him up, Hanamiya’s legs folded under him as he slumped to the ground with a nearly imperceptible flinch, one of his arms instinctively curling around his torso. But his gaze was still sharp as he scanned the area, skipping right over where Tetsuya was standing before sweeping back again and obviously seeing nothing.

 

                Tetsuya remained silent as he took a few steps to the right before launching another stone at the closest third-year. The student jumped as it smacked him in the cheek.

 

                “Who’s there?!” The leader barked even as the other third-years turned to stare warily at the seemingly growing darkness around them. The only light came from the moon, and it made the shadows loom that much higher against the brick walls of the buildings behind Tetsuya. Somewhere in the distance, a raven cawed loudly into the night.

 

                Tetsuya answered the bully’s query with another thrown rock, this time catching yet another third-year in the chest. It bounced harmlessly off his coat but the student was definitely starting to look spooked. He wasn't the only one.

 

                “Adachi, I don’t see anyone,” A third-year muttered nervously.

 

                Behind them all, Hanamiya abruptly stiffened, suspicion-filled eyes narrowing with dawning realization.

 

                _Genius_ , Tetsuya’s mind reminded him. _Besides, who else can become a virtual ghost at the drop of a hat? And he just played us a few days ago._

 

                “Is this place haunted?” Another whispered nervously.

 

                “Don’t be an idiot!” The leader – Adachi – scoffed, striding forward. “There’s no such thing as ghosts- ow!”

 

                Tetsuya smiled grimly as his next rock struck Adachi in the side of the head, not hard enough to give the senior a concussion or anything but it had definitely hurt.

 

                “Adachi, there’s _no one there_!” A few were slowly starting to back away. “I was watching; that rock came out of nowhere!”

 

                Even Adachi was hesitating now; he was staring straight at Tetsuya, eyes flickering around and not seeing anything at all.

 

                “Let’s just get outta here,” Another third-year proposed. “We can take this somewhere else. It’s late enough that no one will see us towing Hanamiya around.”

 

                Not good. Tetsuya frowned as Adachi paused and then nodded curtly, turning away and reaching for Hanamiya.

 

                Quick as a flash, Tetsuya hurled the rest of the stones at Adachi before taking off, ignoring the string of swearwords that followed him as his projectiles hit their target. He needed something bigger, something that would give the third-years a reason to run away without taking Hanamiya with them, and he knew just the thing.

 

                There had been a few dead branches lying around, and Tetsuya scooped one up now before ducking into the nearest abandoned building and racing up the stairs to the second floor. He soon found the broken window that looked out over the bullies below, and as soon as Adachi looked like he was going to go for Hanamiya again, Tetsuya heaved the branch out the gap and let gravity do the rest.

 

                Alarmed shouts rang out as the branch crashed into the bullies’ midst, narrowly missing several heads. None were hurt but the warning was clear.

 

                “I'm getting outta here!” One third-year decided with shaky finality. “I don’t care if it’s ghosts or living people; if it’s ghosts, I don’t wanna be around, and if it’s people, then we’re probably on gang territory or something. Either way, I'm all for leaving Hanamiya here to let them deal with him!”

 

                A murmur of agreement spread rapidly through the ranks, and soon, the students were beating a hasty retreat out of the back alley. Adachi looked contemptuous – shouting for his friends to stay – but he wasn't about to stick around without backup, especially when Tetsuya flung another two stones at his head, so with one last kick to Hanamiya’s left knee, the leader of the bullies also disappeared into the night.

 

                Tetsuya wasn't so stupid as to show himself immediately. Instead, he trekked back outside and followed Adachi until he was certain that the third-year wasn't going to double-back.

 

                When he got back to Hanamiya, the captain was attempting to stand with obvious difficulty. Even at first glance, the second-year looked pretty beaten up, though of course, nowhere near as bad as it could've been. Still, a bruise was already beginning to blossom on the teen’s face, his jaw was tight with pain as he tried to straighten up without jostling his fractured ribs, and his left leg simply would not support any of his weight.

 

                If Tetsuya was being honest, and he had no reason not to be, he had half a mind to leave the captain there. It might take a while but surely Hanamiya could at least phone his parents or his teammates to come pick him up.

 

                _He’d never do that though_ , Tetsuya thought with sudden clarity as he watched Hanamiya grit his teeth and hobble forward a few steps before needing to grab the fence again when his left leg gave out. _He’s too proud. The very notion probably hasn't even crossed his mind._

 

                Tetsuya sighed, a sound that was lost on the wind. And then he stepped forward and cleared his throat.

 

                Surprisingly, Hanamiya only started a bit but didn't bother turning around. A beat of silence passed, and then two, before the captain bit out scathingly, “Please tell me the rest of your damn team isn’t around.”

 

                Tetsuya took this as a sign of acknowledgement, however convoluted, and walked forward towards the captain. “No, they aren’t.”

 

                Hanamiya snorted and dragged himself forward another step. The fake charming smile he attempted to force next was nowhere near as effective as usual, most likely producing one simply out of habit. “Then thanks for helping me. I really appreciate it.” A second later, his expression abruptly fell back into something darker, eyes glittering chillingly. “There’s no way I’d say that, dumbass. Get lost. I never needed your help.”

 

                Tetsuya pressed his lips together and said nothing, keeping pace with Hanamiya instead as the captain inched forward bit by bit. This only seemed to incense the second-year even more.

 

                “I said get lost!” This time, Hanamiya craned his head around to glare directly at Tetsuya.

 

                Tetsuya returned the heated glower with a bland stare of his own. “You need medical assistance, Hanamiya-san.”

 

                Hanamiya’s lip curled. “I'm not going to the hospital.”

 

                Tetsuya suppressed a sigh. “You could call one of your teammates to come help you.”

 

                Hanamiya looked close to rolling his eyes. “In case you haven’t noticed, it’s the middle of the night.”

 

                “I think they would come anyway,” Tetsuya said quietly. “They're your team.”

 

                Hanamiya scoffed out a derisive laugh as he turned a mocking look of disdain on Tetsuya. “Listen, brat, just because Seirin is one big happy family does not mean everyone else is the same. Now do me a favour and get out of my sight.”

 

                He turned away and took another step, only to stumble when his left leg buckled. Tetsuya was reaching for the older teen’s arm before he could reconsider, and with some effort, he managed to steady Hanamiya before his hands were slapped away.

 

                “Leave!” The captain snarled.

 

                Tetsuya had just about had it. He had patience in spades but even he was getting fed up with the second-year’s repeated brush-offs.

 

                “You are injured, Hanamiya-san,” Tetsuya said evenly, looking Hanamiya dead in the eye with his usual steely impassivity. “And you cannot walk, so call one of your teammates to come take you to the hospital or let me accompany you there. Or I could call the hospital directly. Either way, please stop being difficult.”

 

                Hanamiya looked completely taken aback for a split second at being scolded like a five-year-old child before he recovered and scowled again. “I don’t need to go to the hospital. I’ll be fine.” He paused for a moment before spitting out bitterly, “Why are you even doing this? I don’t need pity from you of all people.”

 

                It was a good question. Tetsuya was beginning to wonder about that himself.

 

                “Leaving you here would be Wrong,” Tetsuya finally settled on that answer. “And Kiyoshi-senpai would want me to help you.”

 

                Hanamiya’s expression immediately darkened. “Kiyoshi has nothing to do with this.”

 

                Tetsuya gave a semblance of a shrug. “Kiyoshi-senpai wouldn't want to see you hurt. That’s enough for me.” He pulled out his cell phone. “If you wish, I could call him and tell him you are being too stubborn over very serious injuries. I am sure he will come straight away.”

 

                Hanamiya looked ready to throttle him. Much like during their match however, the captain blinked, and a second later, his expression had calmed, switching back to something far less aggressive in the span of a heartbeat. He cocked his head instead and studied Tetsuya for a moment. “...Does your team know you can be a blackmailing little shit when you want to be?”

 

                Tetsuya didn't so much as bat an eye. “I don’t know what you're talking about, Hanamiya-san. It was just an offer. Would you like to go to the hospital now?”

 

                Hanamiya snorted before releasing his breath in an irritable exhale. “...I’m not going to the hospital. The doctors will insist I stay for at least a day, and then those morons on my team will get wind of it and end up annoying me about it.”

 

                Tetsuya spared a second to consider that wording before allowing an inward smile. He didn't show it though; it probably wouldn't do anything for Hanamiya’s mood.

 

                Still...

 

                “Your ribs are fractured, Hanamiya-san,” Tetsuya pointed out the obvious. “And your leg is in bad shape.”

 

                “I’ll live,” Hanamiya sniped back. “I'm going home.”

 

                Tetsuya wasn't about to back down. “Do your parents know enough about first-aid to treat you?”

 

                Hanamiya glared again. “I don’t live with my parents. I can take care of my own injuries.”

 

                Tetsuya fell silent for a minute as the captain continued on once more, limping along with pride as his only crutch.

 

                “I will call a taxi,” He decided after Hanamiya had made it another three feet. He hesitated for the briefest of moments, thought again of what Kiyoshi would do, and then semi-offered, “You can come to my house. It’s fairly close by, and I know someone who would know how to treat fractured ribs.”

 

                Hanamiya twisted around and almost fell flat on his face. Only the timely intervention via Tetsuya’s hand under his elbow prevented it.

 

                “ _What?!_ ”

 

                Tetsuya paid him no mind and started dialling.

 

**{7}**

 

                It had been a chore and a half to manhandle Hanamiya to Tetsuya’s house, but after convincing the taxi driver to disregard the second-year’s accusations of abduction (Tetsuya had pulled out two five thousand yen bills; the driver had instantly become conveniently deaf), and coupled with Hanamiya’s injuries, it hadn't been quite as hard as it would've been otherwise.

 

                Hanamiya had finally stopped snapping insults when Tetsuya had helped the captain hobble through the front iron gates of the Kuroko estate, most likely because the second-year had been in too much pain to object any further once they had actually reached the house. With a reluctant hand on Tetsuya’s shoulder, Hanamiya had quieted at last and allowed him to lead the older teen up the elegantly winding driveway and through the front doors.

 

                “Don’t _you_ need to tell your parents about this?” Hanamiya drawled once Tetsuya had lowered him onto one of the couches in the main living room. The captain’s eyes were subtly roaming over every part of the house he could see, no doubt taking in the glimpses of mahogany flooring and large French doors and indoor balconies to name a few.

 

                “They're not here,” Tetsuya said flatly as he returned with an icepack for the second-year’s face, as well as a wet cloth to wipe the blood away. “They work overseas.”

 

                He pretended not to see the assessing look Hanamiya was now levelling him with, choosing to pull out his phone again instead.

 

                “You should take off your clothes,” Tetsuya directed at the captain as he waited for his call to connect.

 

                Hanamiya arched an eyebrow with a hint of sardonic amusement on his face. Tetsuya stared back emotionlessly.

 

                The second-year scoffed and began loosening his tie, each movement careful without making it apparent. “I don’t think I want to play poker with you either.”

 

                Tetsuya didn't have time to reply to this non-sequitur as – after a total of eight rings – someone finally picked up.

 

                _“Hello?”_ Came the slightly groggy and more than a little disgruntled greeting.

 

                Inwardly, Tetsuya allowed himself a private snicker. Out loud, he said cordially, “Hello, Midorima-kun. I apologize for the early hour.”

 

                On the couch, Hanamiya turned incredulous eyes on him, pausing halfway out of his shirt. On the other end of the line, a stunned silence followed his words.

 

                _“Kuroko?”_ Midorima sounded torn between disbelief and apprehension. _“‘Early hour’? Do you have any idea what time it is?!”_

 

                Tetsuya glanced up at the clock on the far wall. “Thirteen minutes past one.”

 

                _“That was a rhetorical question! Why are you calling me? This had better be important.”_

 

                “It is,” Tetsuya assured, turning back to face Hanamiya once he noticed that the captain was bare from the waist up. Even he had to hide a wince at the mottled purple-black bruises already mapping the second-year’s torso, especially around his right ribcage area. “How do you treat cracked or possibly broken ribs?”

 

                _“...I beg your pardon?”_ Tetsuya pulled the phone away from his ear when Midorima’s voice came back loud enough that even Hanamiya could hear it. _“Broken ribs? ...Are you hurt?”_

 

                “No,” Tetsuya denied bluntly, and one dark-eyed look from Hanamiya told him not to reveal the real reason either. “I have an acquaintance with me who got into a bit of an accident. They don’t want to go to the hospital so I decided to call you instead.”

 

                _“Kuroko, just because my father is a certified doctor does not automatically make me one too. Whoever they are, take them to the hospital.”_

 

                “They don’t want to go,” Tetsuya said plainly.

 

                _“Then sit on them and call an ambulance! Or look it up on the internet. I do not understand why you would call me.”_

                “I wouldn't know if what I read on the internet is correct,” Tetsuya explained calmly. “And they're stronger than me; I don’t think I would be able to sit on them long enough for the ambulance to arrive.”

 

                Hanamiya snorted from his reclining position on the couch. He looked a little less paper-white than before, though Tetsuya noticed how the second-year’s breathing was measured and never very deep.

 

                Tetsuya frowned. “Please, Midorima-kun.”

 

                His request made Midorima falter over whatever he had been planning to shoot back, and then a long-suffering sigh rustled down the line before the sound of blankets being tossed back was heard.

 

                _“Alright, but only because I want to go back to sleep as soon as possible. Are you sure your... acquaintance has fractured ribs? Or are they just bruised? Ask them if it hurts to breathe in deeply, and whether or not they have a headache or feel dizzy or like they want to sleep. Have them twist their body to see if the pain gets significantly worse.”_

 

                Tetsuya repeated this word for word, and Hanamiya nodded grudgingly, an affirmative to all four symptoms. The last instruction was met with a how-stupid-do-you-think-I-am-of-course-the-pain-gets-worse-if-I-turn look.

 

                _“Then they’re at least cracked if not broken,”_ Midorima ascertained after Tetsuya had relayed everything back to him. _“Do you have athletic wraps on hand? If not, strips of cloth will do. You're going to have to wrap their ribs.”_

 

                Tetsuya did have the former, and he was soon crouching next to Hanamiya and unwinding the roll of binding cloth. Hanamiya looked like he wanted to refuse, or at least do it himself, but he seemed to realize that arguing was an exercise in futility because he remained silent in the end.

 

                _“Don’t bind them too tightly or you risk pneumonia or lung collapse,”_ Midorima ordered from where Tetsuya had placed his phone, switching it to speaker. _“And get your friend to exhale as much as possible before you start.”_

 

                Obediently, Tetsuya concentrated on the figure-eight design that Midorima talked him through, glancing up every few seconds to make sure Hanamiya wasn't feeling too much discomfort from his patch job. By the time Tetsuya had used up the binding and tied it off on Hanamiya’s uninjured side, the tension in the captain’s shoulders had finally eased. His ribs must still be hurting but it had to be better if Hanamiya was no longer showing it visibly.

 

                _“Fractured ribs will heal on their own in about six weeks,”_ Midorima concluded. _“The bindings are just for support so you don’t have to keep changing them after the first few times. Obviously, any strenuous activity should not even be considered. But, Kuroko,”_ His voice sharpened. _“If you or your friend suspect any complications at all, take them to the hospital. I am no expert on internal injuries. It is already very foolish of you to not seek professional medical assistance to begin with.”_

 

                “I understand,” Tetsuya’s voice softened with a smile that Midorima wouldn't be able to see. “Thank you, Midorima-kun.”

 

                _“...It would be irresponsible of me to not warn you,”_ Midorima responded stiffly. _“Is that all?”_

 

                Tetsuya glanced contemplatively at Hanamiya’s knee, only for the teen in question to shake his head tersely, clearly no longer in any mood to continue playing patient.

 

Tetsuya sighed but he knew how to pick his battles; Midorima probably wouldn't be able to do much for the knee without physically being here anyway.

 

“Yes, thank you again, Midorima-kun,” Tetsuya said politely, picking up his phone once more. “Have a good night.”

 

 _“Too late,”_ Midorima grumbled, though it was half-hearted at best, and it was followed by another resigned sigh. _“Go to bed, Kuroko. We both have school tomorrow.”_

 

And with that said, the taciturn shooting guard hung up without another word, leaving Tetsuya to do the same.

 

“Done yet?” Hanamiya enquired sarcastically as he tugged his shirt back on.

 

Tetsuya tilted his head. “Please take off your pants now, Hanamiya-san.”

 

Hanamiya’s right eye actually twitched. “...You are the only first-year I know who can say that with a straight face.”

 

Tetsuya remained utterly apathetic. It wasn't as if he was requesting anything inappropriate; he would've asked the second-year to roll up his pant leg if he thought he’d be able to gauge how bad the injury was just through that but he rather doubted the swelling alone would permit Hanamiya to accomplish that task.

 

So, wordlessly, Tetsuya held up his phone again in a silent I-could-still-call-Kiyoshi-senpai indication. Hanamiya glowered resentfully at him.

 

“What the hell am I even doing here?” Hanamiya mumbled under his breath, looking positively disgusted with himself, but a second later, the captain was levering himself off the couch and shucking off his pants as he balanced on his good leg. Down to a pair of black boxers, Tetsuya now had a good view of the – as predicted – inflammation around the captain’s knee area, as well as the blotchy discoloration tainting the skin.

 

Tetsuya was obviously no doctor – hence why he had called Midorima in the first place; the shooting guard had aspirations towards becoming a doctor himself – but he had watched Coach and Captain force Kiyoshi through enough physiotherapy to have picked up a few things at the very least. So, once Hanamiya was seated again, he promptly put the second-year through a series of gentle bends and rotations of his leg, most that had Hanamiya hissing curses at him.

 

“I think it’s just badly sprained,” Tetsuya finally pronounced. “Icing it, and keeping it elevated should help most, and then start some knee-strengthening exercises after a few days.” He glanced up sternly. “Don’t play basketball until this is fully healed. And I still think you should stop by the hospital to have this checked out.”

 

                Hanamiya didn't look at all impressed. “I could've told you that, dumbass. Do you even know what knee-strengthening exercises are?”

 

                Tetsuya rose to his feet, expression blank. “Yes. Kiyoshi-senpai has to do them all the time.”

 

                Hanamiya’s eyes narrowed dangerously at the perceived accusation but Tetsuya was already turning away to pick up the second-year’s discarded pants. “You are welcome to stay the night, Hanamiya-san. It would be unwise to travel any long distances on that knee.”

 

                “The taxi could've just as easily taken me back to my place,” Hanamiya snapped, eyeing his pants for a moment before clicking his tongue in annoyance and draping it over one arm instead of working his sprained knee back into it. His next words were markedly sullen and barely discernible. “There’s something wrong when some little brat fusses more than Imayoshi.” And then, louder, almost like a challenge, “I’m not sleeping on the couch.”

 

                If the second-year thought this was enough for Tetsuya to kick him out the door, he was sadly mistaken.

 

“Of course not,” Tetsuya returned just as swiftly, holding out a hand. “That is what the guestrooms are for. They’re upstairs though.”

 

Predictably, Hanamiya disregarded his hand and struggled to his feet on his own, grabbing his coat and tie in the process. Tetsuya didn't waste time protesting, choosing instead to pick up the icepack before leading the second-year towards the nearest flight of stairs. He kept a sharp eye on the captain, offering a brief hand to the older teen’s elbow now and then, but the stairs were a bit easier to manoeuvre what with the railing so Tetsuya kept his distance for the most part.

 

Their footsteps echoed a little in the otherwise empty house, and by the time they were halfway down the hall that led to the bedrooms, Hanamiya was side-eyeing him with a speculative expression. “Do you have siblings?”

 

Tetsuya shook his head. “No, I'm an only child.”

 

Hanamiya looked faintly skeptical. “Then why the hell do you need such a big house?”

 

Tetsuya shrugged noncommittally. “My mother likes to have room for remodeling.”

 

 _When she’s around long enough anyway,_ he added in his head without humour. _She prefers the house in Paris more._

 

                Thankfully, Hanamiya didn't press any further, though Tetsuya wasn't under any delusions that it was out of respect for privacy. The second-year had probably just lost what little interest he had had in the subject to begin with.

 

                Hanamiya chose that moment to stumble, grasping at the wall even as Tetsuya moved to support him. The second-year’s face paled again, hand clenching almost harshly around Tetsuya’s shoulder for a second before letting go.

 

                Tetsuya observed him silently for a long moment before enquiring, “You know Imayoshi-san?”

 

                The question was completely out of the blue, taken from Hanamiya’s offhand comment downstairs, and it really couldn't be mistaken for anything other than an attempt at distracting the captain from his knee injury.

 

                “...Aa,” For whatever reason, Hanamiya had decided to humour him as the two of them continued on. “We were in middle school together.” A calculated honey-sweet smirk curved his mouth. “You should be careful when you play his team; his personality can be worse than mine.”

 

                Tetsuya glanced at him. Hanamiya’s smirk widened.

 

Hmm, he supposed that didn't really surprise him. The few times he had interacted with Imayoshi had been on the court, and the third-year had always maintained an air of laidback control and kind civility that masked something darker underneath, a cunning sort of nastiness that reared its head from time to time as if Imayoshi was trying to conceal that part of him because he understood that it wasn't exactly socially acceptable, but at the same time, he also didn't care enough about other people’s opinions to keep it hidden for any great lengths of time.

 

Still, the Touou captain didn't strike him as the type to deliberately injure another player.

 

“Here,” Tetsuya stopped at a door, mentally recalling the rooms he had recently dusted, aired, and vacuumed ( _someone_ had to do the housework). This was one of them; he tended to keep most of the rooms near his bedroom clean. “There’s a bathroom attached with everything you’ll need, and I’ll bring you something to sleep in.” He pushed open the door before glancing down at Hanamiya’s knee again. “Do you-”

 

“No,” Hanamiya cut him off with mercurial brusqueness. “I can manage.”

 

Tetsuya acquiesced with a nod, stepping away as Hanamiya limped inside and shut the door with a thud. Waiting long enough to ensure that the second-year hadn't fallen over or anything, Tetsuya headed for his own bedroom one door down. He was smaller than Hanamiya but he had baggy sweatpants and large t-shirts – some of those had to fit.

 

It wasn't until Tetsuya was halfway back to Hanamiya’s temporary room with an armful of clothes as well as a few extra icepacks that it occurred to him that this entire situation was really rather surreal.

 

He was helping _Hanamiya_.

 

Actually, more importantly, he had invited Hanamiya into his house, which was ridiculous if he thought about it because the two of them were only acquaintances at best and enemies at worst, and Tetsuya hadn't invited _anyone_ over since Ogiwara-

 

It was probably best not to think about that either.

 

Hanamiya was in the bathroom when Tetsuya entered the bedroom, and he didn't need to be a genius to realize that the second-year was most likely listening at the door and waiting for Tetsuya to come and go.

 

Tetsuya could take a hint; he left the clothes on the bed, the icepacks on the side table, and made sure to close the bedroom door with an audible click on his way out.

 

There. He’d done his good deed for the day. Never let it be said he couldn't let bygones be bygones.

 

At least until the next time Hanamiya tried something on Kiyoshi anyway.

 

Tetsuya released a sigh and rubbed at his eyes. Now he was tired, and no wonder – it was almost two in the morning, and he had basketball practice in five hours.

 

He would worry about convincing Hanamiya to call _someone_ to come pick him up in the morning later. Right now, he needed sleep.

 

**{7}**

 

                As it turned out, Tetsuya didn't need to call anyone at all. Come morning, Hanamiya was already gone by the time Tetsuya woke up at six-forty-five, and the only signs that the Kirisaki Daiichi captain had been there at all were the neatly folded clothes at the end of the bed, and the fact that the bed itself had been stripped of its sheets so that Tetsuya would simply need to dump everything into the washing machine. Even the used towels from the bathroom had been dried overnight and placed with the bed sheets and borrowed clothes. The icepacks – as Tetsuya discovered – had also found their way back into the fridge.

 

                How Hanamiya had managed to sneak out with his leg and ribs in such bad condition (both injuries had to be feeling even stiffer than last night) was beyond Tetsuya. Well, no, it wasn't; the second-year had pride and stubbornness to spare, and he’d probably forced himself to limp out by himself. Tetsuya just hoped that the older teen had at least had the good sense to call a taxi to come pick him up at the front gates instead of attempting to walk all the way back to wherever he lived.

 

                It had been an odd night overall, and if not for the evidence, Tetsuya would've believed it all to be a very bizarre dream. It was out of his hands now though, and hopefully, Hanamiya would be a little more careful in the future. Then again, those third-years were probably going to be metaphorically tortured to death once Hanamiya was through with them so there really shouldn't be anything to worry about. Tetsuya had no idea what the second-year had been doing out on the streets so late at night – and vice-versa – but it wasn't any of his business so he wasn't going to pry. The entire incident would be swept under the rug, and Tetsuya was fairly certain that neither of them was ever going to bring it up again, in company or otherwise.

 

                He was right about that last part at least. The next time Tetsuya caught a glimpse of Kirisaki Daiichi’s regulars was after the Seirin-Touou match ( _Aomine-kunwasbackTetsuyahaddoneitthankgod_ ), and the only acknowledgement any of them sent Tetsuya’s way was a swift unreadable glance from a no-longer-hobbling Hanamiya (though Tetsuya knew that there was no way that all his injuries had been completely healed yet).

 

                Still, Tetsuya would consider the fact that Hanamiya only nodded curtly in response to Kiyoshi’s friendly greeting – instead of taking multiple verbal jabs at Seirin’s center like the second-year typically would – as the thank-you that would never be spoken aloud.

 

                For someone like Hanamiya, that single minute gesture was worth a hundred surrenders, and Tetsuya would accept it as such.

 

                (Inwardly however, he had to laugh at the way the other Kirisaki Daiichi players all looked ready to keel over from shock, while the rest of Seirin bristled with suspicion at the out-of-character behaviour, and Kiyoshi himself seemed torn between bewilderment and pleasant surprise. Hanamiya only scoffed and strode away, his team trailing behind him.)

 

* * *

 

**Please leave a review on your way out.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one’s a bit short, and kind of a filler to be honest, but I haven’t posted anything for a while and this one was just sitting around in my laptop. I considered posting it by itself as a separate oneshot but it fit into this universe so I decided what the heck. I’ll get back to the main storyline in the next chapter.
> 
> I’ve also got a Hanamiya/Kuroko fic in the works so maybe that’s where this came from.


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